


Warden in Rags

by N7Tex11



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:17:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 103,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10191815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N7Tex11/pseuds/N7Tex11
Summary: Damien never had much more than the clothes on his back.  He stole and fought to survive on the streets and back alleys all over Fereldan, but when a food run turns into a fight for his life, his talents are noticed by the Grey Wardens and his life is turned upside down.  Can an orphan from the streets stand and fight with a group of legendary heroes and live to tell of it?  Or will he perish under the weight of the Blight?I don't own Dragon Age.  I am merely burrowing the characters for a while.





	1. Chapter 1

The nights grew colder as the youth dropped a few pieces of wood on the fire. He could hear the chattering teeth across the flames from all the others. He knew they were cold and hungry. Andraste’s knickers, he was too, but the castle kitchens and nearly every other place in the city carrying food had locked their doors tight. Not even the Chantry left anything out for the beggars this week.

Highever certainly had its troubles but scarcity was not one of them. Most of the people in the Arling remained well fed and warm through the winter thanks to the generosity of the Couslands. He had even met the youngest child, Alyssa, once, but that was a long time ago now. But for people like him and his friends, work remained scarce and food illusive. With the Darkspawn starting to advance from the south, food was being rationed in case of the Blight’s arrival meaning he and his friends would go hungry.

The youth had dreamed of fighting alongside the heroes of old, straddling a griffin with the blue and silver armor shining in the sun. The Grey Wardens received feasts and banquets everywhere they went since they had been welcomed back to Ferelden. If he could find a way into the army, he could become a hero in the first battle and finally start living the good life. Just thinking about the food and drink he could enjoy as a hero made his stomach growl.

“I know you’re hungry, Damien, but come on. That was loud enough to wake Andraste,” one of his friends said holding his hands over the fire. The frail fingers quivered against the cold as the young man shivered beneath the ragged blanket.

Damien pulled his hood up over his head and pulled his scarf around his neck tighter. He needed to find something to feed the group and the only place he knew would have food enough to feed them all was the castle kitchens. But being locked, he would need to break in.

“Heness, if Lockey and Griggs wake up before I get back, tell them to wait here. I’ll go and try to find some food,” Damien said adjusting the wrappings on his feet. They were horrible for shoes, but they did keep his toes from freezing and falling off.

“Here, just in case,” Heness said handing him a small pouch. Damien opened it and found a small set of handmade lock-picks.

“Thanks, but hopefully I won’t need them,” Damien replied slipping them into his pocket. He grabbed a small dagger had had stolen from the blacksmith on the other side of town and slid it into the back of his waist belt.

Taking a running start, Damien leaped and caught himself on a beam, using it to swing himself up. He scaled the side of the inn he and his friends were camped next to and flipped up onto the roof. Of all his skills, the ability to climb, run, jump, and agilely evade pursuers pleased him the most. It could even be fun at times. Lockey and Griggs had even accused him of being part squirrel, or Dalish.

Even though the comment had been meant as a joke, Damien had always found the Dalish fascinating, and had even joked about going to live with them a few times. He had even learned some of their language from hunters he had met during his time traveling, but Dalish elves would never allow a human anywhere near their camp. The hunters had told him as much.

His steps made little noise as he sprinted across the roof tops, jumping from building to building. He hoped that anyone who saw him would think he was nothing more than a shadow cast by a bird against the moon. Otherwise, the guards would be alerted and he would never get away with enough food for him and his friends. He could see the castle wall. It would be a long jump, but he could make it. Of that, he was sure.

He had shown his comrades all of his skills and learned from theirs as well, but one skill he never revealed terrified even him. Since he was a young boy, he had been plagued by dreams of demons. He knew this often meant that he was a mage but without an ability to use magic, he had dismissed it. The revelation came one day as he ran, leaping from roof to roof. On one such jump, he fell short, but he had reached out with everything he had in him and something propelled him forward and up to where he landed safely. He honed his magic and found he was quite adept at moving objects and his own body with nothing but a hand motion and willpower.

The gap below him was empty. Everyone was probably home sleeping, but the guards in the castle would be wide awake. He would have to sneak down to the servants quarters and find some clothes and shoes so he could blend in.

Kicking off the roof behind him, Damien soared through the air and landed lightly on the castle wall without a sound. He crept along the battlements making his way to the stair case. Though his feet froze against the stone, he thanked Andraste for his near bare feet. The hard, leather sole of a boot would have announced his presence to the entire castle; though if he found a pair of real shoes, he might take a few extras back for everyone else.

The halls were much warmer than the outside. He basked in the torch light and let it sooth his chattering teeth and frigid hands. Slipping through the door to the servants chambers, Damien found himself alone among the two dozen or so beds and trunks. Maybe the servants had some food stashed away along with an extra pair of shoes and some warmer clothes; one could only hope.

After searching through the first four chests and finding only thin summer clothes, Damien decided that they would have to do and slipped them on before tying the scarf around his neck again and draping the cloak and hood over him.

He managed to make it to the Great Hall before he spotted a pair of guards. He slipped through the door and froze. There next to a massive fireplace was Teyrn Bryce Cousland himself, the Teyrn of Highever, and he was talking to Arl Rendon Howe of Amaranthine. He had seen them pass through the streets multiple times.

“It will be good to ride with you again. Just like the old days,” the Teyrn said sipping what appeared to be wine.

“Almost,” Howe responded. A sudden move caught both the Teyrn and Damien off guard as the Arl leapt forward with a dagger in hand. The Teyrn rolled out of his chair just in time as the two sets of guards clashed all of a sudden. Damien couldn’t believe his eyes. Was this a coup d’état? 

Damien watched for a full second before pulling the dagger from his waist and leaping forward. If he could save the Teyrn’s life, he might get a reward and set himself up for life.  
The youth tackled the Arl and managed to throw him off the Teyrn. He jumped to his feet and tossed off the cloak. He had been in several fights before, protecting territory, his friends, their food, but never against a noble or trained soldiers.

“Protect the Teyrn!” a knight screamed at him as the man push past to engage the Arl. Damien flipped the dagger in his hand and leapt to the Teryn’s side.

“Quickly, my lord,” Damien said taking the man’s arm and pulling him to his feet. He noticed quickly the man was injured. He would need healing of some kind if he was going to survive.

“My family, please, we must find my family,” the man begged. Damien sighed. He had to be a good family man.

“Let me get you somewhere safe first, my lord,” Damien pleaded leading him toward the door. 

“Very well, get me to the larder. There’s a secret passage. Then you can go find my wife, children, and grandchild,” the Teyrn said weakly.

“Yes my lord,” Damien said.

As he opened the door to the hallway, he spotted guards battling each other. A man bearing an Amaranthine crest on his shield started to approach them unopposed. Leaning the injured Teyrn against the wall, Damien took a quick breath and sprang forward.

He watched the soldier react by swing his sword toward him, meant for his head, but Damien dropped to the floor allowing his momentum to carry him forward and between the man’s legs. Damien lashed out with the dagger and separated the man’s ligaments in his knee causing the soldier to howl in pain and collapse, dropping his sword and shield. As he scrambled to his feet, the youth scooped up the shield and brought it down onto of the man’s helmet. The blow sent vibrations through Damien’s arms but it appeared to have knocked the soldier out cold.

Damien picked up the sword and brought it to the Teyrn before looping his arm around his shoulder again and carrying him into the kitchen.

“To be honest with you, my lord, this was not the way I pictured the night going,” Damien said as he opened the larder door and helped the man inside.

“None of us expected this.”

Damien chuckled. “I have a confession to make.” He knelt in front of the injured noble and tore a piece of his new shirt off to bandage the wound in his stomach. “I’m not one of your servants.”

“I figured as much with the way you fight,” the Teyrn responded. Damien smiled.

“I actually broke in here hoping to steal some food for myself and a few friends. Everything I’m wearing except for my scarf and the cloak I lost back there is stolen. Even my dagger,” Damien confessed.

“Then you are an exceptional thief and I must ask you to steal my family from Howe’s grasp. Please, they are all that matter to me,” Teyrn Cousland pleaded. Damien couldn’t refuse. Not because the man was his lord, but because he could see the desperation in the man’s eyes. 

“You have my word, my lord. I’ll find them and bring them here,” Damien responded. He flipped the dagger in his hand again and handed the teyrn the Amaranthine shield. He closed the door to the larder and pulled a small bag of potatoes in front of it. At least the teyrn would have some warning before anyone barged in on him.

The fighting in the hall had calmed some but he could still hear the sounds of battle emanating from the Great Hall. He knelt over one of the fallen guards and stripped him of his armor. The leather wouldn’t do much against a battleaxe but it would allow him to stay nimble and quick on his feet. The boots fit decently enough, certainly better than any other footwear he had ever found, and he even found a small purse of a few coppers and silvers; more money than he had seen all year.

He collected a quiver of arrows and a bow before taking up two dueling daggers. The blades were much longer than his blade. Really, what he called a dagger was little more than a boot knife. Armed with his new armor and weapons, Damien took off at a sprint through the halls. He knew the castle layout fairly well, he had certainly broken in enough times, but he had never been up to the sleeping chambers of the Teyrn’s family before. He used the wall to heighten his jump to clear a pile of rubble blocking his way. As he landed, he spotted a Mabari ripping a soldier’s throat out.

The hound looked more like a monster covered in blood with a soldier dying in his mouth, but majestic in a way as well. Mabari were considered the pride of most Fereldan nobles. Everyone said a mabari was even more reliable than a silverite sword for protection.

Damien hid at the corner hoping the dog would not know he was there, especially if it wanted to attack him.

“Good boy, Brax,” a female voice said. Damien peaked around the corner and spotted Lady Cousland along with her mother, Teyrna Cousland. Both women were rather attractive, but Lady Alyssa Cousland was beyond compare. Strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a few of her long bangs falling softly on her face. Though covered in blood and ash, Damien could tell her complexion could only be called fairest of fair, and even that did not capture here essence. Damien shook his head. He could ogle at the girl later. For the moment, he had a promise to keep to the Teyrn. 

But what luck, he had not gone very far and here they were. The younger girl wore leather armor very similar to his while the Teyrna only had her gown with the bottom torn off, most likely allowing her to move easier. He had not expected the nobles to be so down to earth. He always thought their heads were in the clouds, too high on their pedestals to notice their people. 

“We have to get to the vault and collect the family sword. We can’t let Howe have it,” the Teryna stated pointing in the opposite direction of the kitchen.

“Andraste’s holy knickers, they have to grab some precious heirloom,” Damien whispered to himself. He decided to remain hidden and shadow them for protection. The less noticeable he was, the easier it would be to surprise anyone that tried to attack them.

He crept through the halls following the two women and quickly noticed that they didn’t need much protection. The young Lady Cousland could a wield a blade better than most of the soldiers he had seen and the Teyrna could put an arrow in a man’s eye at 20 paces.

They disappeared for a moment down the hall and reemerged a moment later wielding an older but obviously more powerful sword. Damien found himself feeling uneasy. There was something very wrong.

“Now to find father. He’s probably in the Great Hall,” Lady Cousland said waving her mother to follow. Damien pulled his bow and knocked an arrow. He would need to be ready to fight. He simply could not shack the feeling that something off even in the midst of battle.

As the women entered the Great Hall, Damien caught a glimpse of the fighting inside and it appeared to be far more fierce than when he had left. Slipping in quickly, Damien found himself watching guards and knights battling for their lives. The Lady and Teryna wasted no time jumping right into the battle. Damien realized he could no longer stay hidden and charged forward. His skills from the years of pickpocketing, fighting, and running across rooftops started to really show in his fighting style as he used a bench to leap over the two women and engage the soldier in front of them.

He fired the arrow aimlessly causing the soldier to lift his shield opening his stomach for a jab from the end of his bow. He flipped the weapon around and caught the man’s head with the bow string and released his hold on the grip. The weapon sprung from his hand colliding with the soldier’s helmet and denting the face piece in onto his face and knocking him to the ground. Damien grabbed hold of the man’s shield and spun, using the momentum to hurl the protective weapon like a disc toward the few soldiers that were managing to slip through the gate. The shield collided with a man knocking him out cold. Damien scooped up the bow again and rushed forward toward a very skinny man dressed in robes.

He quickly realized why he had a bad feeling earlier. The man before him sliced open his hand allowing tentacles of blood to pour out and surround him. Damien grabbed his knife and hurled it at the man burying it deep in his head.

As the blood mage fell, time seemed to slow. Damien watched wide-eyed as the man collapsed and felt his stomach tie its self in knots.

“Maker’s breath… what have I done?” Damien whispered as he started to back way.

“You killed a blood mage, and quite stylishly as well,” a knight said stepping to his side and patting him on the shoulder. “My Lady, I was so worried some of Howe’s men might have slipped past us,” the knight said turning to the Teryna.

“Some did… they got to…” The Teyrna could not finish her sentence. Damien’s heart sank. The grandchild the Teyrn had mentioned. He had forgotten about them when he saw the Teyrna safe.

“Sir Gilmore, what’s the situation? Have you seen my father?” Lady Cousland asked.

“Last I saw of him, a servant was taking him toward the kitchens,” the knight responded. Damien turned to face them. The knight took one look at him before pointing. “This is him. What are you doing in armor? Where’s the Teyrn?”

“I got him to the larder but he asked me to come and find his family. As for the armor, I needed something more than clothing if I was gonna fight through these bastards didn’t I?” Damien snapped. His stomach still threatened to jump out of his gut. Killing the blood mage might have been the right thing to do, but he was still a person, a living breathing person who died at his hand. On top of that, this knight getting all high and mighty on him was only making him mad.

“How dare you-” the knight started but the Teyrna stopped him.

“You are not one of our servants. I know all of them by name. And you are certainly not a guard. None of our soldiers fight the way you do, or would freeze in the middle of a battle. Who are you?” the Teyrna asked.

“My lady, at this time I’m the man who’s taking you to your husband at his request,” Damien said. “I’ll explain more when we get there.”

“Good enough for me. If he tries anything, Brax will eat him,” Lady Cousland answered.

That appeared to be all they needed to hear because they immediately took off toward the kitchens. Damien led the way, but could feel the eyes on his back. They jumped over the bodies that littered the hallway and slipped through the kitchen door.

“I swear, if I get my hands on Howe,” Lady Cousland began. Damien shook his head and slid the potatoes out of the way.

“Escape first, revenge later, my lady,” Damien said pulling the door open. The Teyrn was right where he had left him. He had turned very pale and had blood running from his mouth. The wound apparently had done more damage than Damien had originally thought. If only he knew healing magic or had a potion or poultice, they could save him.

“There you both are,” he exclaimed weakly. Damien turned away and stepped out of earshot. He did not want to see the man die. He took a large bag from the floor and started stuffing bread, fruit and vegetables into it. A single loaf of bread could last his group several days of not a week, and there were at least ten in the kitchen.

He had nearly filled the bag when the door opened and an armed man entered. Damien pulled his bow and drew and arrow.

“Stop right there, or I’ll drop you. Hand to Andraste,” Damien ordered.

“No need for that, I am a friend,” the man said gently. There was something in the man’s voice that made Damien think he could trust him.

“Who are you?” Damien asked still holding the arrow at full draw.

“My name is Duncan, Commander of the Grey.”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
“A grey warden?” Damien asked lowering his bow. To say he was awestruck would have been an understatement. As the man turned, he revealed a crest of two griffons on his chest, the crest of the Grey Wardens.  
“Yes, and you are the thief who broke in for food. I saw you fight,” Duncan said smiling at him.  
“Yes, my name is Damien,” the youth replied.  
“Come, let us check on those under your protection.” Duncan headed for the larder followed closely by Damien as he dragged the bag of food.  
“Duncan, thank the Maker you live,” the teyrn stated.  
“Tis not easy to kill a warden,” Duncan answered examining the wound in the man’s middle. He sighed and shook his head. “This bandage bought you an hour or so but not much more I’m afraid.”  
Lady Cousland started to sob into her mother’s arms and the Teyrna wept over her husband. Damien wanted to apologize but could not seem to find the words.  
“Duncan, I beg you. Get them out,” Teyrn Cousland asked.   
“I understand, but I must ask for something in return,” Duncan said placing hand on the Teyrn’s.  
“Name it.”  
“I came here looking for recruits. The Blight demands that I leave with one,” the warden said looking over at the young girl.  
The Teyrn looked up with pleading eyes, but before he could speak, the young woman spoke up.  
“Very well. If you need a recruit, I volunteer.”   
Damien admired her eagerness to jump into battle, but he had to admit she might have wanted to think about it a little longer.  
“Then let us leave before the castle becomes surrounded and the we become trapped,” Duncan said standing. Damien felt a lump forming in his throat. He wanted to volunteer for the Grey Wardens as well, but what would such a powerful order want with a street rat like him?  
“I’m not leaving. Not without Bryce,” the Teryna announced.  
“I cannot move Eleanor. You must go.” The Teyrn was struggling to talk. He was fading and fast.  
“Hush Bryce, I kill every man that comes through that door. It will give them time to escape,” the Teyrna stated. Damien could tell there was not talking her out of it.  
“You, thief, you kept your word and saved my life twice now. Ensure they make it out,” the teyrn ordered. Damien knelt before the Teyrn and bowed his head.  
“The grey warden and your daughter will make it out. I swear,” Damien said. Secretly, he hoped he wasn’t making a promise he couldn’t keep.  
A loud crash rocked the castle as Damien spotted the door to the passage. He had to admit, it was really well hidden. He quickly opened it and drew one of his daggers just in case they ran into trouble.  
“They’ve broken through the gates. We have to go,” Duncan said pulling the weeping Lady Cousland to her feet.   
“Mother, Father, please! Come with us!”  
“Stay safe, pup. We love you.” The teyrn’s words echoed down the tunnel as the trio sprinted down the passage with the mabari trailing behind them.  
It only took a minute or two to reach the other end and they exited into a small clearing in the woods outside the castle wall. Damien knew the area well. During the spring, he and Henness would hunt squirrels and pick berries to feed themselves.  
“Lady Cousland, you must quiet yourself. We have long way to go before we reach Ostagar,” Duncan said placing his arm around the weeping girl.  
“Oriana, Oren, my mother and father, Sir Gilmore, everyone is dead,” she sobbed. Her hound came over and nuzzled her with his nose and letting out a small whimper. Damien never thought such a small sound could come out of a massive war dog.  
“Your ladyship, I know this is a hard time, but we must keep moving,” Damien said heaving the bag of food over his shoulder and heading off into the trees. He could hear the warden and girl following him. They could not move through the woods silently at all. He had to learn to hunt with his bare hands or traps. If he made any noise, he’d starve.   
He kept the warden and lady hidden while he crept back to his small camp with the food, but when he arrived, his heart shattered. Laying in pools of blood were his friends. Henness looked like he had tried to fight, but Lockey and Griggs appeared to have been stabbed in their sleep. The only ones that would do something like this was Howe’s men. They were the only ones brutal and savage enough, and the only ones outside the castle to do it.  
“I’m so sorry,” Damien said kneeling next to his friends. He closed Henness’ eyes and picked up his cloak. It did not have a hood like the one he lost but Griggs had a separate hood he wore. He took that and slipped it on. He placed a hand on Griggs and Lockey silently asking the Maker to watch over his friends before promising them he would make Howe pay. He found a small necklace around Lockey’s neck. It was a small carved piece of wood. Wouldn’t be worth more than half a copper, but it was all the poor boy had had of his parents. Damien quickly gathered up his friends cloaks and tucked them under his arm.  
“I’ll keep it safe for you,” Damien said slipping it around his neck and tucking it into the shirt. He said his final goodbye and grabbed the shoulder backs they used for gathering food. The warden and Lady Cousland would need some for their journey to Ostagar.  
Damien fought to keep the tears back as he crept through town trying to avoid any of Howe’s soldiers. The teyrn was dead, his friends were dead, and now he had now were to go. He finally had some coin, armor, weapons, and food, but lost the three people that had been his family for near ten years.  
“What’s wrong Damien?” Duncan asked as he approached.  
“Howe’s men killed my friends. Slaughtered them in their sleep,” Damien said. He surprised himself just how cold he sounded. How strong his voice seemed.  
“I’m sorry,” Duncan replied.  
“Here. Take what you need for your journey,” Damien said setting down the bag and handing them two of the shoulder bags. He divided the food between them evenly and looped his bag over his shoulder.  
“Where will you go?” Duncan asked. Damien sighed, releasing steam from his nostrils like an angry dragon. He could feel the three pairs of eyes on him. Even the dog was waiting on his answer.  
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Luke said adjusting the stolen armor. It wasn’t a great fit so he stripped off the chest, shoulder, and thigh pieces. If he had to defend himself, he could always block with the arm and shin guards. He slipped the armor into the bag that had held the food and heaved it over his shoulder. He might be able to get a few silvers for the gear. At least enough to get a horse to somewhere.  
“You could come with us.”  
Damien stopped. It was not Duncan who made the offer, but Lady Cousland. Damien turned to face the woman more confused than anything. “Why would I do that?”  
“The wardens could certainly use a talented warrior like you,” Duncan said smiling. The dog let out a soft bark, Luke could only assume was him agreeing with the Warden. Mabari’s were very clever after all.  
“Wait, you want me in the Wardens?” Damien asked.  
“You have great skill. Certainly an unorthodox way of fighting, but effective. I could see you becoming a fine Warden,” Duncan said smiling.  
“And you seem to know a great deal about making the best of bad situations,” Lady Cousland added. Damien sighed and adjusted the back and weapon on his back.  
“I suppose I really don’t have anywhere else I could go, do I?” Damien said tightening his scarf around his neck a little more. He could hear some of Howe’s troops moving through the streets, most likely searching from them.  
“We must leave quickly. If Howe’s men catch us, I fear we will not escape,” Duncan said looking to Damien. “Can you lead us out of the town?”  
“I know these streets and alleys better than the folks that built them. Stay close and stay quiet,” Damien said leading them down the alley.  
000  
The roads and wind carried a chill as the trio made their way south. It would be a long trip; at least several days on foot. They could cut that to three days if they had horses, but Damien was not sure if the coins he carried would be enough to get all three of them steeds.  
“It shouldn’t be much further to the next town,” Duncan said picking up the pace slightly.  
“Good, cause my expertise ended about two miles back. I’ve got friends in other cities and I’ve travelled a little, but Highever was what I knew,” Damien said. His heart felt heavy in his chest. His fingers touched the wooden necklace through his tunic and he felt a small shiver climb up his spine.  
“There’s an inn and a stable in the next village. We should be able to get horses there,” Lady Cousland stated. Damien looked over at her. Did she really know or was she just guessing? Didn’t the Teyrn’s children stay in the castle most of their lives learning about all the finer things in life?  
“We should be cautious. Howe may have men in the surrounding towns to delay new from reaching the king,” Duncan added. That made sense. Duncan was starting to impress him. The Warden seemed to have a firm grasp of strategy and a level head.  
“I think hiding who we are is the best bet for us,” Damien said turning and scooping up a bit of mud from the side of the road.  
“What’s that for?” Lady Cousland asked taking a step back.  
“Anyone who took one look at you, milady, would know you, but if you are dirty, they may not recognize you as the Teyrn’s daughter,” Damien said offering her the hand full of mud.  
“You think a little dirty is going to conceal my identity?” the girl asked taking some of the mud and rubbing it between her fingers.  
“Hopefully, anyone in the inn or at the stable will think you are just a pretty peasant girl and pay us no mind,” Damien said applying some of the mud to the Mabari’s back and neck. As he finished, he tossed the rest of the mud away and wiped his hand on his cloak.  
“Pretty?” she asked wiping the mud on her cheeks and nose.  
“Any fool can see you’re attractive,” Damien said bluntly. True he did find the girl breath taking, but he had not romantic goals with her. He saw her as his Teyrna now that her parents were gone, and hopefully soon as a fellow Grey Warden. There was no time or reason to try for anything else.  
“Let us continue,” Duncan said picking up his pace. Damien nodded and quickly fell in step with the Warden Commander.  
The village before them Damien had visited before a few times, but always passing through. There was not much a beggar could get from a poor village with barely enough for themselves. Besides, he would never steal from people with so little.  
The stable offered them horses at a fair rate, one silver per horse, merely asking that they be returned to them well looked after. Damien shook the man’s hand and gave his word before they made their way across the road to the inn.  
“Welcome, what can I get you?” the innkeeper shouted from behind the bar.  
“Two rooms, if you have them,” Duncan said placing a hand full of coppers on the bar.  
“Sorry, but only have one room left,” the man said taking a little over half the coins and handing him the key.  
“You take the room. Just being inside is good enough for me,” Damien said spotting a table in the corner near the fire.  
“I do not mind the commons either,” Duncan said handing Lady Cousland the key.  
“But,” she began but Damien held up a hand.  
“A woman should not sleep in the common area of an inn. It’s not safe,” Damien said before turning and settling in at the table and removing his cloak.  
“Duncan, are you sure?” she asked.  
“Of course. Now, go get some sleep. We have a long ride to Ostagar tomorrow,” Duncan replied patting her on the shoulder.  
“Very well, good night,” she replied snapping her fingers summoning her dog to her side as she climbed the stairs.  
Damien waved his reply and signaled for the bar keep to come over. The man nodded and hustled over to him as Duncan took the seat across from him.  
“What kind of food you have?” Damien asked.  
“Oh, I’ve got some stew, vegetable soup, and I think I’ve for some salted pork,” the man replied.  
“A bowl of each and whatever salted pork you have, we’ll take a serving,” Duncan said producing a silver. Damien smiled. He had heard the legends about Grey Warden appetites, but he never expected Duncan to eat more than what he usually had in a week in one sitting.  
“I’ll just have a bowl of soup,” Damien said pulling a piece of bread from his bag. The soup would be more than enough to send him off to sleep and give him the energy to he needed to ride in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
Damien adjusted in his saddle as he and his companions came to a stop in the village of Lothering. Damien smiled at seeing a large in near the Chantry and climbed down from his horse. Night had already fallen and they were still several hours from Ostagar after near four days of riding from dawn to dusk.  
“I don’t know about you Duncan, but my horse could us a rest and my rear is killing me,” Luke said rubbing his behind. The Warden laughed rubbed his mounts neck.  
“I suppose we can stop of the night. If we leave at first light tomorrow, we could make the king’s camp by midday,” Duncan said taking a carrot from his back and letting the horse munch on it.  
“I agree,” Lady Cousland added punctuated with a bark from Brax.  
Damien looked toward the inn, but then back to the Chantry. He had only been in a Chantry a few times. Most of the time he was kept out and fed from the steps by the sisters. The idea of being able to go into the Chantry to pray somewhat excited him. He was not the most religious man and there were plenty of things that he disagreed with the Chantry about, but he did find the buildings peaceful.  
“You two go ahead. I’m going to go to the chantry for a bit,” Damien said adjusting his hood and his cloak. He hung his arrows from his saddle and took the string off on end of his bow so he could slip it into the quiver as well.  
“Let me have those. You don’t want to leave these where someone might take them,” Duncan said looping the quiver over his shoulder and heading toward the inn.  
“Would you mind me coming with you? I need to pray for my family,” Lady Cousland said softly. Damien nodded. He could not say no. She wanted someone with her so she could mourn her family. Damien understood very well. He needed to say a few words for his friends as well.  
As the pair of them entered the chantry, Damien was awestruck. The ceilings towered over them with beams arranged in beautiful designs while statues made of gold, silver, and stone surrounded them. Damien had to resist the urge to whistle in astonishment.  
Damien spotted a sister approaching them and lifted his scarf to cover his nose and mouth instinctively. He still was getting use to not having to hide his face from others. He turned so his hood and scarf completely concealed his identity.   
“Welcome to the Lothering Chantry. I am Sister Leliana,” a young red head said smiling warmly.   
“I am Alyssa and this is Damien. We have come to pray…” she voice cracked as she spoke. Damien turned and saw tears starting to form in her eyes.  
“Her family was murdered not but four days ago. She seeks peace from the Maker and protection as we travel to Ostagar,” Damien said through his scarf.  
“Of course. If you like, I can go retrieve the Revered Mother,” the sister offered. Damien didn’t know what good that would do. He was just there to pray that the Maker look out for his friend’s souls and guide them to the afterlife. He did not need a sister for that, especially not the Revered Mother.  
“No, that is unnecessary. I simply wish to pray for their souls,” Lady Cousland said.  
“I can stay and pray with you if it will help comfort you,” the girl said. Damien noticed something about the girl. The way she spoke was refined, showing a background of schooling, most likely in Orlais judging from the accent. Her eyes possessed a unique softness to them Damien found comforting and alluring, like a serene, clear pong in a forest clearing.   
Damien nodded toward the young woman before making his way to the front of the chantry and kneeling before the statue of Andraste before taking a seat in one of the pews. He reached inside his shirt and clenched his fist around the wooden pendant. That damned necklace and his scarf was all he had to remember his friends by and he hated that. He wanted to have something else; a sketch, an engraving, something to have so he would never forget their faces.  
As he said his final good-byes to his friends, he felt a small presence. Not unlike the feeling he got around the blood mage in Highever, but pure. Magic that was not tainted by blood or demons, but this was the chantry, why would a mage be here?  
Turning, he saw a young woman with raven black hair and delicate features making her way to the front. He sighed turning back trying not to draw attention to either of them. If someone figured out that she was a mage, they might sense he was one too.  
“May I?” the girl asked motioning to the pew in front of him.  
“Of course. This is the Maker’s house, not mine,” Damien responded. He wished she had decided to sit elsewhere but making a scene might draw unwanted attention.  
“Are you here to pray for the troops at Ostagar?” the girl asked.  
Damien shook his head releasing his hold on the pendant. “Saying farewell to my friends.”  
“I’m sorry. Were they with the king’s army?” the girl asked.  
“No. They were simple beggars in Highever. Killed when Arl Howe attacked the castle,” Damien answered lowering his head.  
“Maker, I’m so sorry,” she said placing her hand on his. He could feel the magic within her. The purity of her heart shined in her magic like the sun and seemed to calm him. He released a slow breath and smiled.  
“Thank you. What brings you here?” he asked.  
“I am praying for the safe return of my brother and sister. They are with the Lothering militia in the King’s Army,” she answered moving from the pew in front of him to sit next to him.  
“I could say prayer for them, if you want? What are their names?” Damien asked.  
“Lillian and Carver Hawke,” the girl answered.  
“I will pray for them, and if I see them at Ostagar, I’ll tell them you are thinking of them,” Damien assured her.  
“You are with the King’s army too?”  
“No, I was recruited into the Grey Wardens not but a few days ago. Same as my companion over there,” Damien said motioning to Lady Cousland. The girl wept softly while Sister Leliana embraced her.  
“Is she a beggar too?” the girl asked. Damien couldn’t help but chuckle and he smiled broadly and genuinely for the first time in days.  
“She is actually the daughter of the later Teyrn of Highever, Lady Cousland,” Damien said softly.  
“Oh,” the girl said shortly as her cheeks turned red.  
“Thank you. I have not laughed like that since my friends died. I’m glad I met you, miss,” Damien said standing.  
“I’m Bethany. Bethany Hawke.”  
“Damien.”  
They shook hands and the young man made his way toward the exit. Part of him wanted to look back, but something inside him told him to keep walking.  
As he made his way toward the inn, he found he was not ready to retire yet and started walking around the town. It was nothing like Highever. The roads were much wider, most likely to allow wagons to pass each other. The buildings were simple and functional. Nothing too fancy like the upper district of Highever with the fine houses and uppity people. He smiled thinking about what his life might have been like if he could have grown up in a small village like this instead of Highever. Although there were worse fates. He could have ended up in the Circle of Magi locked in a Tower for his entire life, never able to see the sun or run across the roof tops and walls of a city. No, that would never be his fate.  
He spent nearly an hour walking the empty roads of the village before returning to the inn and heading up to the room he and Duncan would be sharing. He found Duncan asleep on the floor, but the man’s breathing changed the second the door opened. Damien smirked realizing the man was awake and waiting so see who he was before reacting. Damien closed the door softly and climbed into the bed. He could not believe how comfortable the wood planks and straw were compared to the cold ground he was use to. He settled in and within a minute was fast asleep.   
000  
Ostagar rose out of the hills like old bone in a grave yard. The pale stone towering over the land could be seen from nearly two miles away. Damien stared in dismay at the sheer size of the towers and archways. The Castle in Highever claimed the title of tallest building in the city, but these structures put it to shame in an epic way.  
As they dismounted and handed their horses off, Damien spotted a troops of well armored honor guards approaching. The man in the center could only be King Cailan judging from his golden armor and multitude of guards.  
Damien raised his scarf again. It was not that he did not trust the king and his guards, but he habit was to be as unrecognizable as possible. He preferred to move through areas without being recognized or remembered, made it easier to get what he needed without getting caught.  
“King Cailan, I wasn’t expecting…” Duncan started.  
“A royal welcome. I was beginning to think you were going to miss all the fun,” the king said patting the warden on the shoulder.  
“Not if I can help it your majesty,” Duncan responded. Damien pulled his hood lower and moved to the side to be as far from the conversation as possible. Duncan did not sound like he shared the king’s enthusiasm over the battle to come. Damien made a mental note to ask the man about it later.  
“Then I will have the mighty Duncan at my side after all. Glorious! The other wardens told me that found a promising recruit,” the king said looking over at Damien and Lady Cousland. The youth turned away allowing the young noble to get all the attention. “I take it this is she?”  
“Allow me to introduce you,” Duncan began.  
“No need to be so formal Duncan. Besides, the young Lady Cousland and I are acquainted. I believe it was the Independence Day Ball in Denerim, was it not?” the king said taking Lady Cousland’s hand and planting a little kiss on her knuckles. Damien was slightly stunned to see the look of discomfort on the girl’s face at the man’s touch.  
“It was your majesty, but I am afraid with our castle taken and my family dead, I little more than a Warden recruit now,” she answered. Damien found her eyes searching for him but kept his distance.  
“Taken? Dead? What? I had not heard. Duncan do you know of this?” the king exclaimed turning to the Warden Commander.  
“Arl Howe has showed himself a traitor and attacked Castle Highever and slaying the Teyrn and his wife. I am afraid Lord Fergus and Lady Alyssa are the only survivors of the Cousland family,” Duncan informed him.  
“I assure you, Lady Cousland. The moment the darkspawn are defeated, I will turn my army north and bring Arl Howe to justice. You have my word,” the king promised.  
“Thank you your majesty,” Lady Cousland said bowing.  
“I am sorry to cut this short, but I should return to my tent. Loghain waits eagerly to bore me with strategy,” the king said smiling and nodding. He turned and made his way back toward the camp with his guards.  
Damien emerged and lower his scarf as Brax nudged him with his head. Damien scratched the dog behind the ears and approached his companions.  
“Why did you hide? To meet the king is… an honor,” Lady Cousland said.  
“For a noble, milady, yes, but for a street beggar like me…” Damien answered. He couldn’t finish the sentence. He had great respect for nobility especially after the selfless act of Teyrna Cousland to stay with her husband to give them time to escape. He did not see that same character in the king but the potential was there.  
“You are not a beggar anymore. You are a Grey Warden. Now, the two of you head to the quartermaster and get your new armor and clothes. After that, find a warden named Alistair and tell him to gather the other recruits by the bonfire. He’ll understand,” Duncan said. “Oh, and I’ll keep your mabari with me. The quartermaster had a bad experience with a dog chewing up some of his leather armor a month or so ago.”  
Damien chuckled and watched Brax bound over to Duncan’s side and walk right next to him before strapping his bow and quiver across his back and heading toward the bridge.  
“You know, you don’t need to hide now. You’re a Grey Warden. It’s an honor. Embrace it,” Lady Cousland said falling in step with him.  
“I am, but the Grey Wardens are a military force. Someone who can remain hidden will do the order some good I think. Trust me, milady, I am embracing my new life,” Damien answered.  
“Please stop calling me ‘milady’. I’m a Grey Warden now just like you. Just call me Alyssa,” the girl said sighing and shaking her head.  
“I… I’m sorry… It just… I was trying to show you the respect you deserve,” Damien said clearing his throat and pulling his hood down again.  
“If you want to show me respect, respect my wishes and call me by my name,” Alyssa urged.  
“Alright Alyssa. It’ll take some getting use to but I’ll try,” Damien responded as they crossed the bridge to the king’s camp.  
The canyon below let into the wilds and had line after line of palisades set up to defend against darkspawn attacks. Damien could smell the swampy air as it twisted up around the bridge from the Korcari Wilds. He could feel a presence in the trees unlike anything he had ever felt before; an ancient presence that he could not describe as well as an incessant darkness. It must have been the darkspawn. But a closer presence immediately took hold of his attention. It was a purer feeling than the other. It wasn’t as strong as the darker force but it felt cleaner… better.  
As they made their way through the camp, Damien watched as the Circle mages cast spells and enchanted the army’s weapons. He wondered if they could feel him like he could feel them. Though… he was worried about whether or not the Templars could figure out what he was. He had seen plenty of apostates hauled off or killed in his travels. He had made it a point to steer clear of the armored hunters.   
“Damien?” someone shouted from across the camp. The youth turned to see a man jogging toward him. He cocked his head curiously before the name popped into his head.  
“Daveth? Andraste’s ass, what are you doing here?” Damien shouted meeting the man half way.  
Damien had met Daveth while he was traveling. The two had worked together for a few weeks filling their bellies and claiming a few coppers here and there but decided to split up when the guards came after them. Daveth claimed to be headed for Denerim while Damien continued south.   
“Got caught stealing in Denerim. The guards were gonna kill me but this Warden named Blackwall saw me fight and recruited me. Sent me here,” Daveth said embracing Damien. The youth laughed and patted him on the back. “What about you?”  
“Borders on the same. Broke into Highever Castle to get some food right before Arl Howe attacked it. The Warden commander saw me fight and asked me to join up,” Damien responded.  
“So looks like we’re gonna be Wardens together, huh? Should be interesting,” Daveth said putting his arm around Damien’s shoulders. “On a more important note, who’s that?” Daveth pointed to Alyssa as Damien shook his head.  
“She is out of your league buddy. She was the reason Duncan was at Highever in the first place, meaning you try anything and she’ll kill you before the darkspawn can. Oh, and if she doesn’t, her mabari will,” Damien said shoving his old friend.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
Rows upon rows of tents covered the hill sides. Winding his way through the soldiers, Damien smirked at the men drinking and laughing. They were enjoying life. He didn’t blame them. He should have probably gone with Alyssa to find Alistair like Duncan had asked, but he had a promise to keep.  
“Soldier, I’m looking for the Lothering militia, do you know where they’re camped?” Damien asked. The men he spoke to sprung to their feet upon seeing him in his Warden armor. It was strange getting respect from soldiers rather than being stepped on or kicked as they passed.  
“They’re camped three rows down, Warden. Look for the large orange tent,” one of the men answered.  
“Thank you gentlemen,” Damien responded nodding and meandered through the ocean of cloth and blades.  
He found the large tent and started looking around for anyone that looked like Bethany. He assumed they would be similar in appearance given that they were family.  
“Can I help you, Warden?” a young man asked.  
“I’m looking for Lillian and Carver Hawke. Any chance you know where they are?” Damien asked.  
“You’re in luck. Their my tent mates. This way,” the man said leading Damien to one of the tents. He threw back the flap revealing two dark haired soldiers. The woman sat on her cot sharpening her daggers while the young man repaired some damage to his armor.  
“You two look like you’ve seen some action,” Damien said. The pair looked up at him and stood quickly.  
“What can we do for you Warden?” the girl responded.  
“You’re Lillian and Carver Hawke, right?” Damien asked.  
“That’s us,” Lillian answered.  
“I have a message from your sister back in Lothering.” The siblings eyes widened as fear gripped their hearts. Damien quickly raised his hands. “Nothing bad I assure you. She just wanted me to tell you that she is thinking of you and praying for you.”  
Lillian let out a sigh of relief. They must have thought Bethany had been discovered as a mage. Their concern for their sister made Damien smile.  
“Thank you for telling us,” Carver said bowing his head respectfully.  
“Yes, it’s good to hear she’s safe,” Lillian added.  
“My pleasure,” Damien replied before turning and making his way back toward the warden camp. It felt good to do something small to give a family some piece in these dark times.  
A senior warden pointed him to his tent when he arrived and he slipped inside. He found Alyssa asleep on a cot with Daveth on the opposite side, out cold as well. Damien laid down between them pulled a blanket and his cloak over himself to chase away the cold nipping at his fingers and nose.  
As he started to drift off, he heard the small sound of hushed sobbing from the cot next to him. He sighed sitting up and glancing over at Alyssa. She was still asleep, but tears rolled down her face. He couldn’t blame her. He could not say he didn’t want to do that same thing; weep for everything he had lost during Howe’s attack. His fingers found the wooden pendant under his scarf and he clenched it tight in his fist.  
“Heness, Lockey, Griggs.” The names echoed in his mind as he spoke softly so as not to arouse his bunkmates. They were his family for the past few years and now they were gone. He needed revenge, just as much as Alyssa craved vengeance for her family. When the battle was over, he’d march with the king’s army to face Howe, and he would kill him himself.  
000  
Damien looked around the bonfire at the recruits as the morning sun peaked over the horizon. He honestly could not have come up with a stranger looking group is he tried. They had the noble, Alyssa, a knight from Redcliffe, Jory, a Dalish elf, Lyna, then two thieves, Daveth and himself. Damien couldn’t help but chuckle at their mismatched set of recruits. Though if no one had known their origins, he assumed they all would have looked like equals clad in their gleaming new, blue and silver Warden armor. Damien touched the griffon on his chest and flexed his hands inside the leather, half finger gloves. For the first time in his life, he had a tunic that chased away the cold, warm socks inside tough leather boots that fit perfectly, and weapons of good quality on his back. He flipped his hood up to keep the cold breeze off his ears and tightened his scarf around his neck.  
Duncan was explaining that they needed to collect a vial of darkspawn blood for each of the recruits as well as collect some ancient scrolls, treaties with other races and such.  
“Those documents sound important. Why leave them behind in the first place?” Alyssa asked.  
“The tower was abandon when the order was kicked out of Fereldan. They should not have been left behind at all because of their importance but they were. I don’t know how it happened but it did. Usually, we would not need the treaties but the people of Fereldan seem to have forgotten their word. We’ll need them if we need reinforcements,” Duncan stated.  
“Blood and treaties. Do we have a map of the area?” Damien asked.  
“Alistair has the map and will be going with you,” Duncan explained before turning to Alistair. “Take care of your charges and be back before nightfall.”  
“Understood,” Alistair answered. The man looked like a warrior but the way he held himself told Damien there was something comical about him. Alyssa had been the one to talk to him and gather them all up, so Damien had not had the chance to speak to everyone. Damien’s suddenly caught a slight gleam of gold on the man’s hand where a runic ring sat on his index finger. The ring bore the symbol of the templars. Damien’s blood cooled in his veins until he wasn’t sure if his heart still beat.  
As Alistair led the group toward the gate, Damien held back trying to put as many bodies and as much distance as he could between himself and the templar. The elf must have noticed because she slowed up as well coming along side him.  
“You look pale, shemlen,” she stated smirking. His discomfort must have brought her some kind a twisted pleasure. Maybe it was because she was dalish, or she just didn’t like him… who knew.  
“I just don’t like templars,” Damien responded nodding toward Alistair’s back.   
“Templars? What are they?” the elf asked. Damien raised an eyebrow.  
“I guess you wouldn’t know who they are, being dalish and all. Short and sweet, they’re mage hunters,” Damien explained.  
“You don’t wield magic. Why would you fear Templars?” Lyna inquired.  
Damien pondered on his answer for a moment. Now that he had been recruited by the wardens, there wasn’t anything anyone could do to him…right? Grey Wardens were almost untouchable. What could be the harm in revealing his secret? Then again, he had kept the secret for so long, it felt like something he should hold on to. He didn’t know if he could trust his fellow wardens yet. Until he did, maybe he should keep to himself as much as possible. That being said, he need a lie to explain his dislike of the armor-wearing hunters.  
“They’re an authority in human society. Mage or not, they catch you stealing or breaking in anywhere, they punish you,” Damien fibbed. The statement was true enough. Lockey had been caught by a templar once and the knight had beat him until he bled.   
“Why would that bother you?” Lyna asked.  
“Because I used to be a beggar and a thief. Satisfied?” Damien snapped.  
Lyna smirked again and nodded. “I assume you are considered of low stature among your fellow shemlen?”  
“Lower than servants. At least they have a job, a home, and food that is theirs. Me, if I didn’t steal, I didn’t eat. Plain and simple,” Damien said adjusting the dueling blades on his back.  
“Keep up you two. It’s easy to get lost in the Wilds,” Alistair called back.  
Damien glanced over at Lyna and nodded before jogging with her to catch up to the rest of the group. He may not like that Alistair was a templar, but he was a warden too. He could give him the benefit of the doubt for now.  
000  
The Wilds swallowed the small contingent of Wardens in its frigid jaws surrounding them in putrid, swamp air. Wolves howled in the distance sending shivers cascading up Damien’s spin. He dealt with wolves before on the road and in Highever, one of the dangers to sleeping outside without a tent. His eyes darted from reeds to the bushes and all around them constantly watching for threats and ambushes.   
“Nothing like a relaxing stroll through the garden,” Alistair joked studying the map for a moment before continuing down a thin path through the muck and shallow water.  
“I’d hate to smell what you think is a swamp,” Daveth responded.  
“I’m pretty sure the sewer tunnels in Dragon’s Peak could give this a run for its silver,” Damien stated kneeling and checking a pair of paw prints stamped into the mud. The edges still held their crisp shape, no less than two hours old. A wolf loomed close by, likely watching them and waiting for a chance to strike.  
“Oh yeah,” Daveth reminisced nodding in agreement.  
“Why were you two in a sewer?” Alyssa asked using her shield to push some reeds out of her way.  
“Same reason I was in Highever Castle when we met. I was hungry,” Damien answered.  
“Quiet, you’ll give away our position,” Jory hissed in a hushed tone.  
Damien knew that tone. He had heard it in his friends and his own voice before. That was fear hiding behind a façade of honor. He crossed his arms and stopped looking over at the knight.  
“Considering we need to find a few darkspawn so we can get some blood, I’d say we could attract some attention. If they come to us, all the easier to kill them,” Damien remarked making sure to make his voice louder than necessary.  
“I think I’m with Damien on this one, sir knight,” Daveth added.  
“I agree with the shemlen thief,” Lyna piped up.  
“Damien does have a good point. This whole exercise was to test us, right? We slay darkspawn, collect their blood, find the treaties, and return to camp. We are wardens. We have to face the darkspawn,” Alyssa stated.  
As she spoke, the group came upon a small clearing hosting a slew of corpses including several horses, an ox and cart, along with nearly thirty soldiers. There were a few darkspawn bodies scattered around but the human casualties vastly outnumbered them.  
“We should look for survivors,” Damien said kneeling to check a body.  
“He’s right. They may have information that could help us,” Alyssa agreed.  
The group spread out among the bodies. After a few minutes, Alistair called out from the other side of a wagon. As Damien rounded the side of the cart, he found Alistair standing over a soldier wrapping a bandage and a splint around his leg.  
“What happened here?” Damien asked kneeling on the other side of the man to help Alistair with the bandaging.  
“The darkspawn attacked… ambushed us. They came out of the ground. I’ve never seen anything like it. They caught us completely by surprise,” the soldier explained weakly.  
“Can you make it back to the camp on your own?” Alistair asked. Damien looked up at the man with a puzzled look on his face.  
“Are you kidding me? The Wilds are crawling with Darkspawn and you want to send a wounded man back to camp alone with no protection at all?” Damien exclaimed.  
“He can’t stay with us,” Alistair argued. “I’m not the babysitting type.”  
“He needs to hide out here until we return. The darkspawn don’t come back to ambush points they already used right?” Damien stated.  
“True… let’s finish bandaging him up and we’ll hide him until we return from the old tower,” Alistair said nodding. Damien realized quickly that he had spoken a bit out of line and to an older warden. He hoped it was not the wrong thing to do.  
They pair finished bandaging the man up and hid him under the over turned cart with a full canteen of water, a poultice to help his pain, and a few bits of food just in case. They returned to the group as Jory started to ramble on.  
“You heard that right? A group of seasoned men wiped out by the darkspawn,” Jory stammered.  
“Calm down Sir Jory. We’ll be fine if we are careful,” Alistair said. Damien rolled his eyes.  
“Those soldiers were careful and it didn’t help them. Look, I’m not a coward, but this is foolish and reckless. We should go back,” Jory stated looking around the group.  
“That sound like a coward’s plan to me,” Damien snapped crossing his arms. “I’m in no hurry to die either, but these challenges are part of our test to become a Grey Warden. So, buck up sissy pants. Let’s get this done.”  
“Know this, all Wardens can sense darkspawn. We will not be ambushed. That is why I’m here,” Alistair informed him.  
“You see, sir knight. We might die, but we’ll be warned about it first,” Daveth added jokingly.   
Damien chuckled pushed past the knight taking the lead. He could see white columns ahead, but there was something moving behind them. Possibly darkspawn.  
“Hey Alistair, you said you could sense darkspawn. Can you tell my if that’s a group of them up there about 100 yards down the trail?” Damien asked.  
“I can definitely sense something over there,” Alistair admitted.  
“Good. Lyna, want to go meet the neighbors?” Damien asked drawing his blades.  
“Sounds like fun Shem,” the elf answered knocking an arrow to her bow string. Damien nodded and slipped into the brush.  
He knew Lyna would know how to remain silent among nature. She was like him in that sense. A hunter. If the prey figured out they were there, they could go hungry. Though this time, they feared for their lives if they were prematurely discovered.   
“I see them,” Lyna said raising her bow. Damien held up his hand. “Why are you stopping me?”  
“There’s three archers up on the hill there. Let me get around the columns and flank the archers. Once I’m in position, you can take the hurlocks,” Damien said pointing to the two patrolling darkspawn.  
“Fine. We’ll do it your way,” Lyna hissed.  
Damien nodded and slipped through the brush and mud as quietly as he could. He managed to get to the far side of the hill without the darkspawn seeing him. He raised his hand so Lyna could see him and waited.  
His breath pulled in on his chest as his heart pounded like a war drum. He was sure the tainted creatures could hear its call to arms as his fingers tightened around the grips of his blades. He had never faced a monster like this before. Could his style of fighting work against gunlocks? They were short and stocky. He knew it would work on humans and hurlocks because they were of the same build physically, but he had never fought any dwarves or gunlocks before.  
Courage, Damien. Duncan recruited you after seeing you fight. He would not have done that if he didn’t think you could handle it, Damien assured himself.  
Arrows burst from the brush below the hill burying themselves deep in the Darkspawn’s chests as Damien sprang forward and slashed the throats of two of the archers. He turned and hurled the blade in his right hand at the last. The blade connected with beast skewering the creatures shoulder. Damien closed the distance quickly, using a small amount of magic to increase his speed, and with a single fluid motion ripped the blade out of the genlock’s shoulder and separated the head from its body with his other weapon.  
“I think you’ve gotten better,” Daveth shouted stepping through the brush with the rest of the recruits and Alistair.  
“How did you move that fast? I’ve never seen someone move like that,” Lyna asked. Damien smirked at her tone. She was impressed and maybe a little jealous.  
“It’s just the way I fight,” Damien lied cleaning his blades and slipping them back into their sheathes. “Let’s collect that blood and get to the tower.”  
The group moved as if ordered. He hadn’t meant it that way. He just wanted to get to the tower, find the treaties, and get back to camp. He wasn’t trying to take over or command his fellow wardens. If anyone needed to give out orders it was Alistair as the senior Warden.  
The youth shook his head and knelt next to one of the darkspawn and collected a vial of blood. The creature smelled worse than the swamp around them. The skin covering its twisted face looked to be rotting away before his eyes. The stench and sight sent shivers up his spin as he corked the vial and stood.  
“Which way?” Alyssa asked.  
“Um… North,” Alistair said looking at the map.  
Damien turned his gaze north to try and find any sign of the tower. The trees although they were spread out did not help in his search, but he quickly found what he was looking for. Sticking up just above the canopy of the Wilds were remains of a stone tower. Perhaps time or siege had reduced it to ruin, but either way, they had their assignment and a destination.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
Damien watched from his perch as the darkspawn circled the ruins. The sounds the monsters made sent chills up and down his spine as they screeched and howled at each other. Damien knew a direct assault would end with him and his comrades in pools of their own blood. They would need some kind of diversion.  
“I can’t see anything. What’re they doing?” Daveth asked from a few limbs down.  
“It’s like they’re on guard duty. There are too many for an all out assault, but I think we can skirt the perimeter if we run a little game on them,” Damien said sliding down to the next branch and shimmying down the tree.  
“What do you mean run game?” Daveth asked as he landed.  
“It’s a long shot, but it really is the only way that we all have a chance of making it to the tower alive,” Damien stated as all eyes in the group turned to him. Even Alistair appeared to be listening attentively.  
“What do you have in mind?” Alyssa asked.  
“A shield wall at the front protecting Lyna with her bow behind you and Alistair,” Damien said drawing the formation in the dirt with his finger. “Daveth and I will circle around to the right and slip between the defenses and flank them. Once we engage them, there will be a small window where you can engage them in single combat. Jory, you’re rear guard on the formation. Lyna, drop as many of those monsters as you can. Move slowly and make sure to keep Lyna protected from their archers.”  
Damien didn’t realize just how much planning a battle was like planning a heist. Arrange the distraction, go for the loot, and get out, only now it was distract, flank, annihilate. He smirked as the thought made its home in his mind. He liked being a warden, and he just might be good at it.  
“I like it,” Alistair announced, far too excited in Damien’s book. As long as he was okay with the plan, Damien didn’t care.  
Daveth followed close behind him as they sprinted through the trees, stopping right at the edge of the brush waiting for the companions to make their move. Damien tried to keep control of his breath. In the cold, swamp air, his breath could give them away if he wasn’t careful.  
The shielded group erupted from the trees and plowed straight ahead with the young elf in the middle picking off her targets one by one. Damien took off at a dead sprint, making sure to not use his magic so Daveth could keep up with him.  
Sliding down into the mud and gliding to a stop right up next to the darkspawn defenses, Damien wriggled through the pointed pickets and drew his weapons. The rest of the group would be too far inside the darkspawn defenses in only a few seconds. They needed to act fast.  
Damien raise his short swords and charged forward without a sound. If he stayed quiet, he might be able to kill several darkspawn before they knew he was there. His right blade found a hurlock’s throat while the left cleaved a genlock through the head and nearly into its chest.  
“Now!!!” Damien roared as an Alpha Hurlock spotted him roaring so loudly it rattled Damien’s bones.  
The shielded team scattered and engaged the darkspawn slicing through the tainted creatures easily as Damien dodged and rolled out of the way of the Alpha’s giant battle axe. Damien smirked as he studied the darkspawn’s speed. He won.  
Launching himself forward, he slashed the back of the creature’s legs severing the tendons and sending the beast to the ground. He quickly stood and sliced off the creature’s head for good measure.  
“Good plan,” Lyna stated as she patted him on the shoulder and headed toward the tower.  
“It was a great plan,” Alyssa added following the elf.  
“Well, don’t get use to it. Those ideas are few and far between,” Damien stated. He had to make sure the recruits didn’t look to him for orders. He might have made a good leader, but the last group he led died when he abandon them. Thoughts of Lockey, Heness, and Griggs flooded his mind and he battled against the urge to cry. “Let’s just find those treaties.”  
The group entered the ruins and started searching. Damien found himself looking up at the ruins as they remained erect against the forces of time. He wondered what the tower might have looked like when the Wardens had occupied it.  
“Here!” Alyssa called from the far side of the tower. The group gathered around her as she sighed. The chest in front of her had been broken in two. Damien knelt in front of it and examined the seal. It was a Griffon clutching a scroll in his claw. If the Wardens kept any important documents, they would have been in this chest. He could sense a small remainder of magic energy as his hand pressed on the lid of the chest. The treaties must have been sealed with magic to protect them  
“Alistair, you’re a templar right? Can you sense the seals that were on the treaties?” Damien asked looking back at the senior warden.  
“Maybe,” the man said stepping closer but stopped suddenly. “How did you know the treaties were sealed with magic.  
Damien’s eyes widened as he realized what he had done. Andraste’s dimpled butt cheeks, how did I do something so stupid? Damien sighed and stood, taking a few steps back. “I was born with a small amount of magic. I’ve never been schooled by the circle, but I’ve never even considered blood magic either. I use it when I run. I use it to make me jump higher, run faster, and soften my falls. That’s all I swear,” Damien confessed with his hand on his blade.  
“Relax, Damien. I was trained as a templar, but I’m not one. I was recruited by the Grey Wardens before I ever took my vows. You have nothing to fear from me,” Alistair assured him. “Though I can see why you kept it a secret.”  
Damien let out a sigh of relief as he looked at the other faces in the group. Lyna was smirking as if she had known all along, but Alyssa looked completely and utterly appalled. Jory appeared to be ready to cleave him in half, while Daveth looked deep in thought…well as deep in thought as Daveth could get.  
“Well, well, what have we here?” a voice sounded from behind them. Damien drew his blade immediately and turned to face the possible threat. Instead he found a beautiful young woman with ebony hair walking down what was left of the tower’s stair case. Damien could feel magic power emanating from her like a tolling bell in his bones. She must have been very powerful.  
“Damien, I don’t like this,” Daveth whispered as the woman descended.   
“Are you a vulture I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder coming into these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?” the woman asked stepping within two paces of Damien as he sheathed his weapon. Her gaze burrowed into him seeking the truth of his presence, but Damien had met people like her before. She was using fear to try and get what she wanted. She did not intend to attack unless provoked. “What say you? Scavenger or intruder?”  
Damien smirked and signaled for everyone to relax. He could feel their eyes on him. He couldn’t have them spooking this woman. She might have information on the treaties. He would need to be careful in how he questioned her. “Neither, milady,” Damien began with a small bow. “We are Grey Wardens in search of treaties that were foolishly left behind in this tower long ago.”  
“Milady? That is a formal greeting, even here in the wilds. I have observed your progress for some time. Where do they go, I wondered. Why are they here? Yet, here you are. Disturbing ashes that have long since lost their flame, seeking something that is here no longer,”  
“Be careful. She looks chasind,” Jory whined.  
“You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you,” the woman said shaking her head in disgust.  
“We don’t like swooping, swooping is bad,” Alistair responded.  
“You say the treaties are here no longer. Do you know who took them?” Damien asked raising a hand to try and quiet his companions. The woman might be their only chance at finding the treaties and completing their assignment.  
“T’was my mother, in fact,” the woman said.  
“Then perhaps you could take us to her,” Damien suggested.  
“Now there is a sensible request. I like you. Follow me if it pleases you,” Morrigan stated turning and leading the group down a trail leading through a hole in the tower wall.  
Damien began to follow when Daveth came up alongside him. “She’s a witch of the wilds. She’s gonna turn us into toads,” the man rambled franticly.  
“We need to recover those treaties. This woman is the only one who can get them for us. If it is a double cross, we fight our way out,” Damien whispered back, keeping his eyes on their guide’s bare, and if he was being honest, very lovely back.  
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Daveth added before falling back in line behind Damien.  
“Me too,” Damien whispered. He sighed and quickened his step until he was close behind the woman. “I don’t believe we ever properly introduced ourselves. My name is Damien. What might I call you?”  
“Such civility, I must say, that is unexpected. You may call me Morrigan,” the woman responded.  
000  
The hovel hid itself behind the ruined wall of what might have been a cathedral or maybe a fortress, Damien could not tell which. Trees and swampland surrounded the entire area except for the thin muddy path on which the small troop walked.  
An elderly woman stood in front of the home with long snow white hair and a knowing smile on her lips. Damien couldn’t help but feel slightly afraid as his senses buzzed with the feeling of such immense magical power, it was almost unbearable. When they stood in speaking range of each other, Damien thought the power might crush him into the mud and dirt.  
“Greetings Mother, I bring before you six Grey Wardens who-” Morrigan started but she was cut off by the old woman.  
“I see them girl. Much as I expected,” the woman said looking over each member of their party.  
“She’s a witch I tell you, we shouldn’t be here,” Daveth whimpered.  
“Quiet. If she is really a witch, do you want to make her mad?” Jory scolded.  
“Witch? Morrigan must have told you that. Witch of the Wilds indeed. Oh how she dances under the moon,” the woman jested.  
“I don’t know who or what you are, but you aren’t what you seem,” Damien said feeling the pressure closing in around him. They needed to be done with this woman as quickly as possible.  
“Oh, you appear to possess a true gift. Yet, there is uncertainty about you. But… do I? Why, it seems I believe,” the woman spouted off. Damien shook his head. What was she talking about? What did she mean things were uncertain for him?  
“They did not come for your stories or fortune-telling Mother,” Morrigan stated.  
“Ah yes, they came for their treaties. And before you start barking like rabid dogs, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected them,” the woman stated opening a chest next to her door and pulling several scrolls from it.  
“You…You protected them? Why?” Alistair asked.  
“Why not? Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight’s threat is greater than they know,” the woman stated handing the scrolls to Alistair.  
“What do you mean by that?” Alyssa piped up.  
“Perhaps they think less of the threat or the threat is greater than they think,” the woman said constantly spinning her riddles.  
“We appreciate you assistance, madam. Thank you,” Damien said as his arm covered his stomach. If he didn’t get away from this power soon, he might get sick or loose consciousness.  
“Such manners! And always in the last place you look…like stockings,” the woman stated letting out a laugh of enjoyment… and perhaps a touch of madness.  
“Time for you to go,” Morrigan stated. Damien nearly shouted his praise for the announcement as he took a step toward the path away from the hut.  
“Don’t be ridiculous, girl,” the woman stated softly. Damien froze. If she asked them to stay he was not sure if he could handle being in the woman’s presence for much longer. “These are your guests.”  
“Oh, very well. I will show you out of the woods. Follow me,” Morrigan said taking the lead of the group once more. Damien fell instep behind her and the pressure around him lifted. Once the hut was out of sight, the youth could feel the weight beginning to lift from his shoulders and chest allowing him to breathe a little easier.  
“Are you alright? You seemed very quiet back there,” Lyna asked from behind him.  
“I’m fine. I’m surprised none of you could feel that,” Damien stated wiping his brow. Simply trying to stand upright in Morrigan’s mother’s presence had been exhausting, and now they had at least a five hour hike back to camp. He would be lucky if he was able to stay up right once they got there.  
“Feel what?” Alyssa asked a few spots back in the line.  
“Nothing… just the magic power that woman has is incredible. Just being in the same vicinity nearly dropped me to my knees,” Damien confessed. “Morrigan is no push over either. Granted she ‘s not on the same level as her mother, but I have never felt stronger magical power except from the circle mages when they are all casting together.”  
“You are a talented man, Warden. I would not expect someone to be so sensitive to magic whom is not a mage,” Morrigan stated without looking back.  
“I am a mage. Just not with the circle or ever trained by it,” Damien responded rubbing the back of his neck as the group ducked under low branches and over fallen limbs.  
“Do you not practice magic?” Morrigan asked as the group stumbled from the trees and into a clearing with a clear cut trail leading northwest toward the camp.  
“Only with small things like when I run. I use it to enhance my movements,” Damien responded. He extended his hand in thanks, but Morrigan raised an eyebrow before vanishing back into the brush and trees.  
“Come on. Let’s get everything back to camp. If we hurry, we should make it before nightfall,” Damien said pointing up the trail. The group nodded and Damien took the lead, marching up the trail toward the distance smoke rising on the horizon.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
Duncan sat next to Damien as the youth nibbled on a roasted rabbit leg. Damien almost laughed when he heard Duncan’s belly rumble. The Warden Commander had already finished off a full pheasant and two bowls of stew. How could the man still be hungry? Damien smirked and handed what was left to the man.  
“Are you sure?” Duncan asked accepting the half eaten leg.  
“I’m use to eating very little. Three squares a day is a bit much for me,” Damien confessed licking his fingers and wiping his hands on his britches.  
“That will change,” Alistair stated sitting down across the fire from them.  
“I’ve heard stories about Wardens, but I thought they were just stories,” Damien said, breaking a small piece off of a loaf of bread before tossing it over the fire to Alistair.   
“After the Joining, I’m sure you will understand,” Duncan said finishing off the rabbit and tossing the bone in the fire.  
Damien nodded and looked blankly into the fire. The joining ritual became more and more mysterious by the second. Why did they need darkspawn blood? Duncan had said that the circle was preparing for the ritual but what did that mean. Was there magic involved in the joining?  
“Damien, are you still with us?” Duncan asked as his hand woke Damien from his thoughts with a strong pat on his shoulder.  
“What? Oh, sorry. Just lost in thought,” Damien stated looking around. Alyssa and Lyna had joined them for the meal and Daveth was taking his seat as well. Jory appeared to be on the way.  
“What’s on your mind?” Alistair asked, dipping some of his bread in what appeared to be his second bowl of stew.  
“The joining. Why wait? Shouldn’t we go ahead with it?” Damien asked.  
“Trust me. It’s worth waiting until long after dinner,” Alistair said finishing off his stew.  
“I have to agree with Damien. Why wait? If the battle is coming tomorrow, shouldn’t we do everything we can to be prepared as quickly as possible?” Alyssa asked.  
“Yes, but there are still some preparations that must be finished before we can proceed. I assure all of you I want to finish the ritual as quickly as possible. We will need every Grey Warden we can get,” Duncan stated.  
“Then as soon as those preparations are finished, I say we get it done,” Damien said. He looked around the group. All the recruits were nodding their agreement, even Jory.  
“Very well. I will check on the preparations then meet all of you in the old temple. Steel yourselves. Those who survive the joining pay a heavy price,” Duncan stated. He stood slowly and nodded to Damien before making his way toward the Circle of Magi camp.  
“So, are we taking bets on what this ritual is?” Daveth asked with a mouthful of bread. Damien smirked and shook his head.  
“I just want to know, why all these damned tests? Have we not earned our place?” Jory asked.  
“Says the coward who would rather run from a darkspawn than face them,” Lyna snapped, taking a long drink from her mug.  
“Lyna, come on. The Wilds was the first time any of us faced a darkspawn. We were all a little scared,” Damien said, looking over at the knight. As much as he agreed with Lyna’s statement, it would not do them any good to cause rifts in the group. Jory might be the man at their back in the upcoming battle. He would rather have the man stay out of loyalty to the order rather than honor for himself.  
“Maybe for you, shem. But I have faced darkspawn before. It’s the only reason I am here,” Lyna confessed wiping her hands off and setting her food aside.  
“What do you mean?” Alyssa asked.  
“My clan was camped in the forests south of Denerim. A fellow hunter and I were sent to scout the surrounding area when we found a cave. Inside was an ancient mirror. I don’t remember what happened next, but I woke back in my camp very ill and Tamlen was nowhere to be found. When I went back to the cave with a few others, there were darkspawn everywhere. We killed as many of them as we could…” Lyna’s voice trailed off as the memories drove her to tears. Alyssa slid down next to her and put her arm around her shoulders.  
“I’m sorry,” Damien said shortly.  
“A warden named Blackwall was in the cave and told me that I was sick with the taint and if I wanted to survive, I needed to head south…here and tell the wardens he had sent me. I wanted to stay but the keeper made me leave. She said she would rather see me leave than die slowly of the taint,” Lyna explained.  
“So, the wardens have a cure for you?” Daveth asked.  
“Something like that,” Lyna answered.  
“Whatever the situation, we are lucky to have you with us, Lyna. I have never seen anyone shoot the way you do. I assume you were taught by one of your clan?” Damien asked.  
“Yes, I was. And you? Who taught you how to use your magic?” Lyna asked.  
All eyes turned to Damien as he took a swig of water from his canteen. He sighed using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth before leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.  
“I learned on my own, just like everything else in my life,” Damien said folding his hands.  
“Were you not afraid of demons?” Alistair asked.  
“I saw plenty in my dreams, but I never spoke to any. I just ran. I heard of abominations and the like before but they were just words. Templars, however, were a very real threat,” Damien answered, nodding toward Alistair.  
“Templars are there to protect people from magic,” Jory butted in.  
“Templars kill mages that don’t fall in line and obey. I was not going to let that happen to me, so I stayed away from them and kept my magic a secret from everyone.” Damien’s hand found the wooden pendant around his neck and gripped it tight. “Even from my friends.”  
“I’m sorry, Damien. That must have been hard, hiding that part of yourself all this time,” Alistair said taking a drink from his mug.  
“At least now I can fight with my full ability and not worry about Templars,” Damien said smirking.  
“You should have seen him back in the old days. He could steal anything from anywhere,” Daveth said ripping into another piece of bread.  
“There is one thing that I couldn’t steal,” Damien said, throwing a rag at his friend. “I could never find you any manners.” The group laughed as Daveth caught the rag and dabbed his lips with it delicately, exaggerating the motions of proper table manners.  
“You won’t find any with the wardens either,” Alistair added. “Most of us were raised by dogs.”  
“That does explain the smell,” Alyssa piped up.  
“No that’s just Alistair. He hasn’t figured out he doesn’t have to lick himself clean anymore,” Damien joked. Alistair smiled before throwing his head back and howling like a mabari. Damien smiled as the group continued to laugh and joke with each other. Maybe this could be his new family. They were not better than Lockey, Heness, or Griggs by any means, just different. He could see himself feeling at home with these people. A brother among the ranks of the Grey Wardens.  
000  
The old temple loomed over them like ancient bones protruding from the ground below. Damien could hear his fellow recruits shivering in their armor against the chilly, night air as Damien sat on a ledge that had once been a window. Beneath his thick cloak and armor he was quite warm. He had endured colder nights with much less to cover him before.  
“I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” Jory whined.  
“Are you blubbering again?” Daveth teased.  
“Look, my wife is in Highever with a child on the way. If I had known about all of this… It just doesn’t seem fair,” Jory said hanging his head.  
“Makers blood, pull you head out of your arse, Jory. The Wardens do what must be done to end the Blight. That is your only duty now. Protect that pretty wife and child of yours from the darkspawn,” Daveth snapped.  
“Daveth, calm down,” Damien said hopping down from his seat. “You too, Jory. We are all here to become Wardens. You knew what this was when you agreed to come.” Damien felt a cold feeling on the back of his neck and turned to see Duncan approaching with a silver chalice. There was something very dark about it, something bordering on evil.  
“At last we come to the joining. The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the brink of annihilation. So it was when the first Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered the taint,” Duncan said, setting the chalice down on the table and turning to face the recruits.   
“We’re going to drink the blood of those… those creatures,” Jory said, taking a step back.  
“It makes sense. Same way assassins take poisons to build their immunity,” Alyssa said rubbing her hands together.  
“As the first Wardens did before us, and as we did before you. This is the source of our power and our victory,” Duncan explained.  
“Those who survive the joining become immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon,” Alistair explained. Damien crossed his arms as he listened. This was definitely more than what he signed up for, but he had come this far. There was no turning back now.  
“If this is what needs to be done to become a Warden,” Damien said stepping forward. “Then I volunteer to go first.”  
“Very well. We speak only a few words before the ritual. Alistair, if you would,” Duncan said bowing his head. Damien followed suit sending up a short prayer to Andraste to forgive him to taking in such a darkness.  
“Join us brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And one day, we will join you,” Alistair recited reverently. Damien let out a sigh and turned to face Duncan.  
“You are called to submit yourself to the taint. From this moment on, you are a Grey Warden,” Duncan said handing Damien the chalice. Damien looked down into the dark burgundy liquid in the goblet. The smell filled his nostrils with a putrid scent Damien could only describe as death personified. The dark feeling swelled around him as he lifted the chalice to his lips. The metal touched his lips, frigid against his skin as he drew in a small mouthful of the blood. The taste infected his mouth with a rotting, coppery taste. He never knew anything could taste so horrible, and he had eaten three week old rotten vegetables before. Forcing himself to swallow the thick liquid, he could feel his throat fighting to keep the blood from entering his stomach, but he swallowed hard again. He could feel the taint surging through his body. Every vein, every artery, every muscle chilled and frozen at its touch before suddenly becoming burning hot. His vision failed him drowning him in darkness as he felt himself fall to the ground. Above him, materializing out of the darkness was a giant yellow and white eye surrounded by purple and black scales. The roar deafened him but there was something else hidden within the roar; a whisper that called out to him and twisted into his very bones. He couldn’t understand what it said, but he knew he had to wake up. He had to get away from this demon.  
Damien let out a slow breath as his eyes opened to the starlit sky above him. He could feel a definite difference in himself. The taint did not feel good or bad, just different. Like he was wearing a new set of clothing. It was still his and fit well, but did not feel quite right. He sighed and sat up. He smiled relieved that he was at least still alive. Judging from what Alistair and Duncan had said, he was lucky to even be breathing.  
“It is over. Welcome brother,” Duncan said stepping to his side and helping him to his feet.  
“That was…” Damien started by his mouth was so dry his voice cracked and faded before he could finish. Alistair offered him a canteen and took several long drinks from it. He let out a breath before attempting to speak again. “Nothing you said prepared me for that.”  
“Such is the price to become a Grey Warden,” Duncan said patting Damien on the back. The commander took the canteen and made his way over to Lyna as she sat up.  
Damien looked around the temple and found only Lyna and himself were awake. Alyssa still lay still on the floor, but still breathed judging from the steam rising from her lips. On the other side of the temple, he spotted two wrapped forms. He looked over at Alistair as he made his way over.  
He opened the first and found Jory staring up at him with cold empty eyes. Damien shook his head as he covered the knight once more. He turned to the second form and uncovered Daveth’s pale face. The thief’s eyes were closed and dark blood stained his lips as black veins drew a web across his skin. Damien sighed and placed his hand on his old friend’s chest.  
“I will remember you,” Damien said. He covered Daveth up once more before turning back to the knight. Jory’s face was clear of the black veins that had adorned Daveth. Why were their deaths different?  
“Jory, refused to drink after Daveth died,” Alistair said placing a hand on Damien’s shoulder.  
“So he was killed? To keep this precious secret?” Damien asked.  
“He drew his blade and tried to run. Duncan had no choice,” Alistair said sadly. “In my joining, only one of us died, but it was still horrible. I’m glad you three made it.”  
Damien secured the cover over Jory’s face once more before standing and facing Alistair. “They should get a funeral with full honors,” Damien said looking back at Daveth’s body.  
“They will,” Alistair said placing his hand on Damien’s shoulder.  
Damien nodded and stepped past Alistair. He approached Alyssa just as her eyes fluttered open. Damien knelt next to her.  
“Quite a ride, right?” Damien said as Alistair handed him a canteen for her.  
“The dream… it seemed so real,” Alyssa said, accepting the canteen and taking several large swallows of the cool water within.  
“All will be explained in time, but for now, retire to your tents and get some rest. I will wake you in the morning. You will need your rest for the coming battle,” Duncan said helping Lyna to her feet.  
Damien nodded as he helped Alyssa to her feet as well. The three new wardens gave their fallen comrades one last look before taking their leave and returning to their tents.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
The fire crackled as the warden camp swelled with scents of cooking meat and the sound of men drinking merrily. Damien found it difficult to concentrate on anything as he turned the large rack of ribs over and used some ale to season the meat. The dream had come again as he slept in his tent after the joining. The dragon descended on him like a plague as its eyes had ripped into him. He could not quiet the feeling that something was wrong.  
“You dream too?” Lyna asked sitting down next to him. Damien glanced over at the elf and nodded slowly.  
“I haven’t had nightmares like that in years,” Damien said rubbing his forehead and sat forward resting his elbows on his knees.  
“Duncan said that it was part of sensing the darkspawn. He was going tell us more after the battle,” Lyna said examining the ribs over the fire. “Where is he anyway?”  
“He’s at some war meeting with the king and Teyrn Loghain right now. The darkspawn must be getting close. All the nobles are starting to get nervous,” Damien said looking back toward the king’s tent.  
“What are you thinking?” Lyna asked, tossing a string of sausages onto the grill plate next to his ribs.  
“I’ve never been in a real battle before. At least nothing as big as this one will be. I have to admit, I’m nervous,” Damien said flipping Lyna’s food and removing the ribs from the flame.  
“Me too. I’ve never been in a battle that I couldn’t hide in the trees from or end quickly,” Lyna said, tapping on the grip of her bow.  
“If we watch each other’s backs, we’ll be fine,” Damien said cutting off a few ribs and handing them to her. The elf smiled and accepted the food.  
“You know, I wondered why the warden camp smelled so good,” a woman said coming up behind them. Damien turned and spotted the Hawke siblings suited in their armor and ready for battle.  
“Lillian, Carver, what are you two doing here?” Damien asked wiping his mouth and motioning to a log next to him.  
“We got our orders from the Bann. Seems we’re going to be fighting with the Grey Wardens and the King’s legion this evening,” Carver said sitting down on the log. Lillian made a move for some of Damien’s ribs but he moved it just out of reach showing her a big, toothy grin.  
“You can loose a finger getting between a warden and his food,” Damien remarked as he tore into another piece. Lyna laughed, stripping clean the bone she was holding. Damien collected a few of the bones and let out a loud whistle. The sound brought Brax bounding over to the fire where Damien dropped the bones, some with a little meat still on them, in front of the mabari.  
“I’ve heard Wardens eat like bottomless pits. I didn’t know you ate like hounds,” Carver commented as Damien finished off the remaining meat in front of him before tossing Brax the rest.  
“Careful who you say that around. My buddy here might take offense,” Damien jested patting the dog on the back. Brax paid him little mind as he chomped down on the leftovers trying to get to the inside of the bone.   
“Hope you don’t mind us joining you for a bit. You came and told us about our sister and we wanted to say thank you,” Lillian said looking over at the two wardens.  
“Bethany was worried about you two. I just hope delivering the message helped her feel at peace,” Damien responded.  
“Peace…I hope so,” Carver said lowering his gaze.  
“If you two are fighting with us this evening, there must be other militias too right?” Damien asked checking the sausages still on the grill plate.  
“Of course. The Crestwood, Marbane, and Calenhad militias will be there too. Not to mention the King’s legion and his regulars,” Lillian said looking out over the Wilds. “I’ve only fought in one other battle with Carver. Those monsters are like nothing I’ve ever faced before.”  
“We fought some in the Wilds yesterday. They are monsters but not unbeatable,” Damien said pulling the sausages off the fire.  
“You haven’t seen the main horde. Facing them is like facing the gates of hell itself,” Carver stated rubbing his hands together.  
“Good thing Wardens fight like demons,” Damien retorted. Lyna smiled at the comment as Lillian and Carver both nodded their agreement.  
“That we do,” Duncan said joining the group. Damien smiled and cut off a piece of the sausage for the commander. The man accepted gratefully and devoured the meat hungrily.  
“What’s the word commander?” Lyna asked.  
“The wardens will be at the king’s side for the battle except for Alistair and Alyssa. They will be taking command of the troops in the Tower of Ishaal to signal Loghain when to charge,” Duncan explained wiping his mouth.  
“Sounds like they got the short end of the stick,” Damien said tossing a sausage each to Lillian and Carver.  
“They would certainly agree with you,” Duncan stated opening his canteen. “They complained for what seemed like an hour.”  
“Only an hour? I would have kept going til you changed your mind,” Damien teased taking a bite of his food. He had to admit, he secretly wished he was going to the Tower instead. He would never admit it to anyone else but the prospect of fighting in such a massive battle frightened him more than anything.  
000  
Rain pelted the troops as they waited for the monstrous horde of evil advancing through the trees. Damien could feel the darkness seeping out of the Wilds like a black fog covering the land. The feeling weighed heavily on him like his soaked cloak and armor as the light of the darkspawn torches grew ever closer.  
“Bet you wish you were still in your tent right now,” a man a few rows up whispered to a companion.   
“Are you kidding? Soaking wet and cold, waiting for the blighted darkspawn instead of in my warm, dry bed in my tent, no way. This is exactly where I want to be,” the other jested bouncing in place trying to keep warm.  
Damien sighed and flung off his cloak. The fight was coming and he needed to be able to move quickly and the cloak would only slow him down. He pulled his hood over his head to protect his ears from the freezing rain and gripped his blades tightly.  
“Ready for this?” Lyna asked, notching an arrow.  
“Let’s send these bastards back to hell,” Damien answered.  
The first line of their enemy appeared out of the shadows of the trees. Somehow their number made them uglier in his mind. A massive horned Alpha hurlock led the first line raising a massive battle axe above it head and letting out a roar that shook the ground beneath them. Giant, horned ogres stomped the ground like war drums out for blood. Hurlocks roared and beat their weapons against their shields. Several ranks started to move backward ever so slightly but the wardens stood their ground encouraging the militias to hold. The Alpha out front roared once more and the darkspawn began their advance.  
“Archers!” the king ordered. Damien took a slow breath trying to calm the adrenaline pounding in his chest. Flaming arrows filled the sky above him and rained down on the darkspawn, but it did nothing to deter the flood of tainted creatures.  
“Hounds!” came the second order and hundreds of mabari charged forward. Damien kept a close eye on Brax as the dog ripped into a darkspawn’s leg before clamping down on the beast’s throat. He watched the hound for what seemed like an eternity before the final order came. Two simple words that echoed through the ranks and erupted like a battle cry from the soldiers around him.  
“For Fereldan!”  
Damien launched himself forward trying to close the distance between him and Brax. He knew Alyssa would never forgive him if the dog were to be injured in the battle. The mabari certainly could hold his own but Damien wanted to have the dog at his side if at all possible.  
“Damien, on your right,” Lyna called from behind him. He spotted the threat, a shriek coming straight for him. He dug his foot into the mud and used his magic to change his direction. He knew the turn could not have looked natural by any means, he might have even looked like he broke his leg, but he didn’t care. He launched himself forward blocking the shriek’s first attack with his left blade and slicing clean through the beast with his right. He landed and sprinted to Brax’s side joined quickly by Lyna as she fired an arrow through a genlock’s head. The three stood back to back with Brax taking down any darkspawn that got to close. Damien would defend his comrades and counter when needed while Lyna picked off distanced targets. The system was working.  
“Mind if we join the party?” Lillian asked slicing through the back of a hurlock a few paces from them and jumping to Damien’s side.  
“The more the merrier,” Damien shouted stabbing through a genlock’s eyes and kicking it away.  
“Don’t sound too excited,” Carver shouted joining the circle between Lyna and Brax.  
The five sliced, stabbed, and cleaved their way through enemy after enemy, but the beasts just kept coming. No matter how many they killed, the darkspawn would not let up. Damien had to wonder how long they had been there. Minutes… hours… he didn’t dare to look up to see if the stars were out yet, keeping his focus solely on the battle.  
“Damien, take those three and the mabari to the right flank! The line is faltering!” Duncan shouted from the king’s side. Damien looked back just long enough to confirm where the order came from before nodding. Duncan and the king were higher up the incline and could see the battle better. He had to trust their judgement.  
“On me!” Damien roared to those around him.  
“We’re with you!” Lillian answered as the five ran through the bloody slush toward the right side of the battle.   
When they arrived, Damien could see why the line needed help. There was a small path leading up to the camp where the chantry sisters were still tending to the wounded from the earlier battles. Mages were defending it to the best of their abilities but they would not hold for long.  
“To the base of the cliff face. Hold that path, whatever it takes,” Damien ordered. No one questioned it. They knew what needed to be done just as much as he did.  
The militia men could not hold and the wardens were too few to turn the tide on the right. Damien could see plain as day that without reinforcements, the right flank would collapse. If that happened, the darkspawn would surge up the path, decimate the camp above, and flank the entire army from behind. They had to hold. There was no other option. The right had to hold.  
“Carver, Lillian, rally what men you can and fortify the line. Keep the darkspawn from using that path. Lyna, take charge of the mages and archers on higher ground. Rain hell down on these blighters. I’ll take any warden I can find and buy you time to prepare. Now move!” Damien ordered. He surprised himself at how calm he sounded giving out orders. It felt almost natural.  
No, he didn’t have time to think about that. He shook his head and spun his blades around him. “Wardens! On me!” Damien roared. He was not sure if the men would listen to him but he had to try. He charged forward, slicing straight through a hurlock’s armor. Ripping the blades free, he ducked a blow meant for his head from a battle axe and drop the point of his right blade up under the chin and through the skull of his attacker. Drawing his blade from the creatures skull, Damien noticed a few wardens at his side with their blades drawn and ready helping him to hold the line.  
“Hawke, push forward. Lyna, keep up the pressure. Wardens, let’s make them regret coming to the surface!” Damien’s order was answered by a roar of approval from the men on the right as they pushed the enemy back.  
As they fought, Damien noticed the left flank was holding strong and the center was pushing with them. He glanced up only for a moment looking for the signal in the Tower of Ishaal. Nothing. What were they waiting on?  
As he lobbed the head off of a genlock, his mind whispered a horrible thought in his ear. What if the darkspawn had taken the tower before they could get to the signal? Could the darkspawn have made it around their sentries somehow? How would they know to attack the tower if they did?  
As if the Maker himself answered his questions, the signal flare erupted into the sky. Damien smirked as he slashed through another hurlock. Soon Teyrn Loghain would be joining the battle and they would end this battle with a decisive victory.  
“Hold the line! Reinforcements will be here soon!” Damien roared. The entire right flank roared their approval as they dug their heels into the bloody mud and fought like wild men.  
The handles of Damien’s daggers dripped with the blood of the felled darkspawn as they rubbed blisters across his palms. He sent up a silent prayer to the Maker or Andraste, whomever’s ear he happened to catch, begging them to aid them just long enough for Teyrn Loghain to charge. Damien started counting in his head. It should not take more than a few minutes for the teyrn’s forces to enter the battle.  
Damien brought both blades down on a genlock and kicked it back into one of its kin as a warden mage next to him spun his staff and froze a hurlock solid. The breast shattered to pieces the second Damien’s blade tip cracked its surface. Damien took but a moment to look up the hill to where the teyrn’s attack would be coming from, but he saw nothing. Not even the light of the torches against the sky.  
“Hold the line!” Damien ordered once more before stepping back. He turned and waved for Lyna to come down. He needed to stay with the frontlines. The men fighting with him were rallying around him. If he left to see what was taking the reinforcements, the right flank might not hold.  
Lyna slid down to the muddy embankment to the ground. Mere feet from the bottom, she launched an arrow into a hurlock’s eye, before tucking her head and rolling gracefully into a jog, meeting Damien behind the front line. Damien had to admit, he had never seen anything like it. The skill was undeniable. “What’s going on?” Lyna asked keeping her eyes on the relentless foes.  
“I want you to see if you can get a view of Teyrn Loghain’s position. He should have charged. If he’s engaged, then we’ll have to withdraw. If not, then I don’t know what’s keeping him,” Damien said looking up at the Tower of Ishaal as the signal continued to burn brightly.  
“Got it. Just don’t win the battle until I get back,” Lyna shouted sprinting for the path leading up to the camp.  
“No promises!” Damien shouted back before returning to the line. As his blades danced in front of him, spilling the tainted black blood of his enemy, his mind only seemed to go back to counting. Four minutes… five… seven… He told himself that if he reached the double digits and Loghain had not come… no, he had to. Without the teyrn’s force flanking the darkspawn. The wardens and the king’s forces would be completely wiped out. He had to come. He just had to.  
“Damien!!!” The panicked scream dropped his heart down into his stomach as he stepped back from the line once more. Lyna slid to a stop panting and looking up at him with terrified and confused eyes. She didn’t have to say anything. Damien knew. He had not wanted to admit it, but he knew the moment after he sent Lyna.  
“They’re not coming. Were they attacked?” Damien asked looking over his shoulder at the line. It was holding but only for a moment longer.  
“They left us, Damien. I saw them marching away,” Lyna wheezed. The terror soaked her voice like the rain beating down on their heads. Damien couldn’t help but feel the fear and panic twisting and slithering its way up into his mind.  
He couldn’t let this happen. Not again. First, Lockey, Griggs, and Heness, then Daveth and Jory. No… he was not losing any more friends. The Wardens had to survive and by Andraste’s dimpled ass cheeks, he was going to save them.  
“Pull everyone back to the path, then get up to the camp and tell all the non-combatants to run. No time to pack, just run. They have to try and make it to Lothering. I’ll find Duncan. Go now,” Damien said. He could hear the fear causing his voice to tremble. He had to be strong, but he had nothing left. All he could do was save as many Wardens as he could, and the king, if possible.  
Damien sprinted through the battlefield leaping over corpses and wounded alike, using his magic to carry him over longer jumps and to dodge enemy attacks. He spotted the King and Duncan fighting side by side, but the moment he turned in their direction, an arrow grazed his cheek and sent him toppling into the puddles of rain and blood. He wiped his cheek trying to check the wound, but it didn’t seem too bad, but as he tried to regain his feet he froze. On the ground in front of him, a Warden stared blankly at him as blood covered everything but the whites of his eyes leaving the man’s hazel eyes in a sea of white staring at him.   
“Damien!” he heard a voice like a distant memory ringing in his ear as a hand closed on his shoulder. He spun around drawing his blade, ready to defend himself, but he stopped seeing Duncan pulling him back to his feet.  
“Duncan, I thought you were… I mean… I don’t…” Damien stammered.  
“Focus. Look at me, what’s going on?” Duncan said. Damien wet his lips and took a quick breath.  
“Loghain’s not coming. Lyna saw him marching his men away from the battle. He left us to die,” Damien reported looking around the field.  
“Get everyone you can and guard that path on the right. Evacuate the camp and make a run for Lothering. I’ll tell the king and we’ll withdraw,” Duncan ordered patting Damien on the shoulder. Damien nodded and sprinted back toward the right. He was glad he had made the same call.  
000  
The rain and thunder continued to pelt the battlefield and the darkspawn pushed through the lines of wardens and soldiers. Damien watched in horror from the path the darkspawn surged through like a flood through a broken dam.  
He could see the king and Duncan still fighting in the center with a dwindling number of troops around them. The main force would not last much longer. He could see several soldiers fleeing for their lives through the back ranks already. Above him, crossing the bridge in panicked droves, the chantry sisters, carts of wounded soldiers, and many more terrified people hastened toward the Imperial Highway hoping to get to safety.  
“Damien, we’re running out of time,” Lillian shouted as they backed their way up the path still trying to keep the darkspawn from breaking through.  
“At the top, we hold for as long as we can. We have to give the camp time to be evacuated,” Damien ordered. Brax barked at his side obviously wanting to get back in the fight. “Easy boy,” Damien said patting the war dog. “Easy.”  
Damien watched the movements of those around him, but could not help looking back to the field below. But in that moment, he wished he hadn’t. He could see King Cailan dead on the ground drenched in blood with Duncan on his knees next to him holding his side. Not but a second later, an alpha hurlock charged the commander and cut him down.  
Damien couldn’t believe his eyes. His voice caught in his throat denying him the exclamation he wanted. His feet moved on their own with the wall of men in front of him as they continued their slow retreat.  
“Damien, what’s wrong?” The question smacked him in the ear as he realized tears had begun to descend down his cheeks. How could he tell the people around him what he just saw? The King and the Commander of the Grey were dead. These men were barely hanging on as it was.  
“Nothing, keep moving,” Damien ordered.   
The group finally made it to the top of the hill embankment. Damien grabbed a mage and pulled them forward.  
“Freeze the ground, set it on fire, just slow them down,” Damien demanded. The mage looked so scared, Damien actually felt sorry for the man. “Listen, we are all that is standing between the darkspawn and our wounded comrades. We have to give them time to evacuate.”  
He knew this decision would cost several of his companions their lives, but that couldn’t be helped. All he could do was save everyone possible, then escape himself. He took a slow breath and looked back at the bridge.  
“Lyna, find some of the catapult combustion rounds they were using at the start of the battle. Once the last non-combatant is across the bridge, we’ll blow it up,” Damien said.  
“Wait, what about us?” a soldier asked. Damien could see the worry in the man’s face.  
“Once the bridge is destroyed, we’ll head into the Wilds, head west, then turn north to avoid the horde,” Damien answered.  
“You think we can survive the Wilds?” Carver asked, keeping his eyes on the path as the mage covered the narrow path in thick, smooth ice.  
“If we can survive this battle, we can do anything,” Damien answered. The soldiers around him lifted their heads with renewed spirit. They may not have been completely inspired, but they understood what needed to be done and they had a glimmer of hope that they might make it home. All he could do was keep that hope alive and keep fighting.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
Shrieks clawed their way up the iced path shattering the barrier that had kept the darkspawn at bay. Damien knew it was just a matter of time before they were overrun. Even with the short break, every one of the defenders with him was either wounded or too exhausted to continue to fight. He was no exception. The cut to his face stung as his sweat mixed with his blood. His hands had blistered through his gloves to the point that each strike of his blades threatened to rip his skin off. He wrapped his hands in bandages beneath the gloves but it did very little to help.  
“Damien, we can’t wait anymore. The Darkspawn are through the center. They’ll be coming up behind us any minute,” Lyna reported nursing the raw tip of her fingers. She had emptied her quiver over and over again into the darkspawn. Like him, the simple wear and tear of continued fighting threatened to leave them helpless.  
“Blow the bridge. As soon as you do, we head for the Wilds,” Damien ordered. He turned back to the remaining warriors with him. “On me. One last push then we pull back. I know you’re tired. I know you’re hurting. I’m right there with you, but this last push is for us. So we can go home. For the Grey Wardens! For Fereldan!”  
The men roared around him and joined him on the line, but what they saw broke any spirit the men had mustered. Before them, an ogre climbed up onto solid ground followed by a half dozen shrieks. Damien knew the genlocks and hurlocks were not far behind.  
“Hawke and I will take the ogre. Everyone else, kill anything that comes over that ledge.” Damien gripped his blades tighter, doing his best to ignore the throbbing that radiated from them.  
What remained of their group charged, howling like wolves on the attack. Damien charged forward slid between the ogres legs slicing at the beast’s ankles, but the thick, mud-covered hide of the monster held against his blades’ bite. The ogre had bent forward trying to catch him, giving Lillian an opportunity to strike. Her blades came down on the beast’s head. The skin split, but the bone did not. The beast stood up right sending Hawke stumbling backward as Damien leapt up onto the beast back and drove one of his daggers down into the space between its collar bone and shoulder. The ogre’s head reared back with a roar smacking Damien in the head with one of its horns. The young warden fell backward into the cold mud as his other weapon fell from his hand. Damien tried to get to his feet, but the pain in his head throbbed and pounded all the way through his skull. He could feel blood running down his face and he blinked trying to clear his vision. He scrambled toward what looked like open ground but the taint in his blood screamed for him to move. Roll left now!!! The thought rumbled so loud in his mind, it even drowned out the pain.  
In the middle of the roll, he felt the earth beneath him shake as the ogres fists slammed into the ground where he had been laying. Suddenly, he felt a wet snout on the back of his neck as jaws closed around his hood and he was pulled quickly away from the fight.  
“Dread Wolf take you, Damien. I thought you were dead,” Lyna said kneeling beside him as his vision began to clear.  
“Be honest. How’s it look?” Damien said touching his forehead and patting Brax.  
“Like an ogre hit you in the face. The bridge will be destroyed in a moment, but you should know, I saw darkspawn on the other side. I think they are coming from the tower,” Lyna said helping Damien to his feet.  
“Alistair and Alyssa?”  
“No sign,” Lyna answered mournfully.  
“Maker keep them. To the Wilds,” he said nodding toward the southern gate. “Retreat!”  
The order sent the few living men sprinting for the Wilds, but there were far fewer than Damien had hoped and the darkspawn archers were cutting down more with each passing second. Brax suddenly jumped up between Damien’s legs causing the wounded warden to collapse onto the dogs back. The mabari started to run with Lyna right next to them as Damien held on with all the strength he had.  
“Good boy Brax. Save my ass much more and I’m gonna have to adopt you,” Damien stated slurring his words. His eyes were drooping as he heard the bridge explode. He prayed they made it; for Duncan, the king, his fellow wardens, Alistair, Alyssa. There were just so many. How could they have failed so completely? Darkness over took him as the sounds of battle faded.  
000  
The throbbing in his head woke him as he listened around him. He could hear a small fire crackling behind him and a warm body on his left. Judging from the smell, it had to be Brax. He tried opening his eyes and found himself beneath a canopy of branches and evergreen needles. Taking a slow breath, he turned over looking toward the fire.  
“Thank the Creators you’re not dead,” Lyna said kneeling in front of him. Damien groaned as he crawled out of the shelter and Lyna helped him to his feet slowly. “Take it easy. I think you fractured your skull.”  
“I thought I felt a breeze,” Damien said as he swayed on his feet. Dizziness hit him harder than the ogre did forcing him to rely on Lyna to guide him to the fire and set him down.  
“I cleaned your wounds as best I could, but most of our supplies were left at camp,” Lyna said showing him the ripped lining of her armor.  
Damien looked around and other than the mabari still asleep in the small shelter, there didn’t look like there was anyone else around. Could they be the only ones left?  
“Who else made it?” Damien asked. Lyna sighed as she took a makeshift ladle and scooped a small amount of something out of a helmet that was doubling as a pot. Handing him the ladle he sipped on it. Damien smiled. Lyna was using the helmet to purify water so they would have something to drink.  
“Lillian and Carver are with us. They’re out looking for food. There were some others that got out the gate but we all got separated,” Lyna answered, stoking the fire.   
“Maker forgive me. Duncan told me to save everyone I could and I barely made it out myself.” Damien took another sip of the water and winced as a spike of pain jabbed into his head.  
“You did the best you could. We saved all those wounded and chantry people. That’s something,” Lyna said.  
Damien handed the ladle back to his companion and warmed his hands near the fire. They ached from the long battle and several of the blisters had been ripped off; likely during the fight with the ogre.  
The youth reached down into his boot and pulled a small knife hidden within. The blade wasn’t much, but now that he had lost his new blades, it was the only defense he had other than his companions. He knew they would need to rely on each other to stay alive, but he felt completely useless in his current state.  
“Looks who’s up. How’re you feeling?” Carver said coming into their little camp with a dead squirrel and a few fish.  
“Like my head got broken,” Damien responded smiling at the man. The youth chuckled before starting to skin and clean what Damien could only assume was going to be dinner.  
“Where’s Lillian?” Lyna asked.  
“She’s right behind you,” Lillian said stepping into camp with another squirrel. “So, roasted or stewed?”  
“Roasted,” Damien said sitting up slowly and crossing his legs.  
“Roasted, definitely,” Carver agreed.  
“As much as I hate to agree with shemlen, roasted,” Lyna teased.  
“Works for me,” Lillian replied, sitting down and skinning the creature.  
The four sat teasing each other while the food cooked, it was all they could do to keep from crying. The reality of the defeat at Ostagar loomed over them like the moon, constant and impossible to ignore. Damien sighed and looked around the fire at his company.  
“I’m sorry everyone. I should’ve done things differently.” Damien lowered his eyes as the group turned to look at him.  
“You did everything you could. If Loghain hadn’t betrayed the king, we would have won. The right flank held because of you,” Carver said, turning one of the fish over the fire.  
“He’s right and the entire camp would have been destroyed without you deciding to stay,” Lillian added.  
“And staying cost every soldier and warden with us their lives. Duncan told me…” Damien didn’t get the chance to finish.  
“Duncan told you to save as many as you could. You did, and we are still alive. Now get your head on straight. What’s the plan?” Lyna snapped, kicking the heal of his boot.  
“Why are you asking me?” Damien asked looking around the group.  
“You did really well in the battle and we trust you. So, what do we do?” Lillian answered.  
Damien sighed and rested his arms on his knees. He had no idea where they were, but luckily, the taint in his blood told him there were no darkspawn near them. Then, like a beacon, he felt a massive amount of magic to the east. It must have been Morrigan and her mother. If anyone had the power to help them and possibly heal their wounds, it would have to be them. Besides, it seemed like the safest place in the Wilds and Morrigan could guide them around the horde once they were ready to move.  
“We head east at first light,” Damien said taking one of the squirrels from the fire.  
“Why east?” Carver asked handing half of the other squirrel to his sister and keeping the other for himself.  
“There’s a couple people that I think will be willing to help us,” Damien said, using his knife to cut his own squirrel in half and handing it to Lyna.  
“Morrigan and her mother? You think?” Lyna asked.  
“They helped us before with the treaties,” Damien said. His widened as he looked over at Lyna. He was looking at him as well and he knew she was thinking the same thing he was. “The treaties were in the King’s tent. Maker’s breath, we’re gonna need to recover them.”  
“That’s suicidal,” Lillian protested.  
“Not if we wait for the horde to move on,” Damien answered. “Besides, I know for sure that there are several Grey Warden artifacts that we need to get back.”  
“Like what? What could be that important?” Carver argued.  
“Just trust me. We have to go back,” Damien answered. Off the top of his head, he wanted to find the joining chalice, Duncan’s body, the treaties, and any records that explained what was special about the joining that made them what they were.   
“Not without more people, new weapons, and new armor,” Lillian said looking across the fire.  
“Of course we’ll need to resupply. I wasn’t meaning go back right now. I’m not crazy… not completely,” Damien replied touching the wound on his forehead.   
The group chuckled at that and returned to their meal. Damien smiled as Brax came up next to him and nudged him with his nose.  
“You smelled the food right? Why don’t you go catch your own dinner?” Damien teased.  
The mabari let out a loud bark and nudged him again. Damien laughed and tore a piece of the squirrel and set it down next to him for the hound.  
“I’m trying to figure out who is in charge over there and I can’t decide,” Carver said through a mouthful of squirrel meat.  
“Definitely the dog,” Lyna responded without hesitation.  
“Hey, Brax saved my butt and literally carried me away from the battle,” Damien said rubbing the dog’s ears.  
“How’d you get him?” Carver asked. “I don’t know too many people with their own mabari.”  
“Oh, he’s not mine. He’s… he was Alyssa’s.” Damien’s voice softened as thoughts of his fellow wardens in the tower flooded his mind.   
The dog whimpered next him laying his head down on Damien’s lap. The youth sighed as he stroked the dog’s short fur and rubbed his neck.  
“I know boy. I know,” Damien whispered. He finished the little edible meat on the squirrel before laying the bone in front of the mabari. The dog chomped down on the bone hungrily while still remaining at the young warden’s side.  
“I’ll take first watch,” Carver volunteered wiping his mouth and taking a sip of water from the ladle.  
“Alright, wake me in a few and I’ll take over,” Damien said starting to stand, but he lost his balance and nearly fell if it had not been for Brax moving under him to support him.  
“Damien, you are going to sleep until it’s time to move,” Lyna growled, looping one of his arms around her shoulders and helping him over to the small shelter.   
“Fine, fine, but only because I can’t see straight right now,” Damien said crawling into the shelter and laying down. Brax quickly joined him laying his massive head next to Damien’s facing out toward the camp.  
“Get some rest. We’ll wake you at first light,” Lyna told him. Damien sighed, knowing he had no argument and closed his eyes. Soon, he knew his dreams would make him restless, but for the moment, he was at peace with a hot meal in his belly and his thirst quenched. He drifted in and out of sleep for a few minutes before finally succumbing to the nightmare riddled sleep he both needed and dreaded.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
The Wilds seemed darker than the first time. There was no real path to follow and the small group found themselves having to wade through waist high water, ankle deep mud, and grass that was taller than any of them by at least two feet. Damien stayed in the lead using his magic to keep him moving constantly toward the immense magical power he felt, hoping that it was the two apostates and safety.  
As they reached the edge of a large pool, Damien could see a small column of smoke rising from the trees ahead. If the water was not too deep, they could be there in less than an hour.  
“Thank the Creators,” Lyna breathed slapping at the mosquitoes buzzing around them.  
“Group vote. Cross here which should be faster, or go around,” Damien asked.  
No one waited to vote and simply moved past Damien and into the water. Damien laughed and followed them in with Brax still at his side. The water made it up to their chests (Lyna’s chin) as they reached the middle. Damien watched Brax dog paddle on ahead until he reached shallow enough water to stand a few dozen yards ahead of them where he turned around and waited for the rest of the group.  
“This water smells like the back end of an ogre,” Damien complained letting out a small cough. The motion sent a twinge of pain through his skull.  
“As the only one that has ever been close enough to that end of an ogre, only you would know,” Lillian teased holding her blades above her head.  
“Ha ha, very funny,” Damien chided.  
“I thought it was,” she replied mockingly.  
The group climbed up the opposite embankment and pushed through a wall of swamp grass revealing the hut and smoking fire beyond. Damien lagged behind slightly trying to steel himself against the pressure that being in the women’s presence brought. It was odd that he was not feeling the intense pressure yet being so close.  
As he came through the grass, he stood beside his comrades, tired and dirty looking at the small hut. He took a slow breath and took a step forward. His head ached so much he could not ignore it. He had been for most of the day as the group had hiked but now that they were at their destination, Damien’s knees buckled beneath him and he collapsed next to the fire. Brax and Lyna immediately leapt to his side as his vision blurred in and out in rhythm with the throbbing in his head. The fatigue of the journey and his wounds simply overpowered his will to stay awake and he slipped into darkness.  
He saw the dragon again, just like every night before, in a massive cavern breathing purple fire and roaring. The whispers called out to him like a summoning, but Damien kept himself from speaking, doing his best to remain hidden from the beast’s gaze.  
The dream faded and wooden rafters replaced the cavern ceiling. A warm blanket covered him while a soft pillow lay under his head. He didn’t quite understand where he was until he sat up and found Morrigan stoking a fire. He reached up and touched his forehead. The pain was nearly completely gone replaced with a cotton bandage.  
“So your eyes finally open. Mother should be pleased,” Morrigan said turning to look at him.  
“Thank you Morrigan. I don’t know what else to say except thank you,” Damien said looking down at himself. He realized very quickly that at least his upper body was completely without covering and nothing but the blanket covered his lower extremities.  
“You must not thank me, it was mother’s doing. I am not as gifted with healing magic as she is,” Morrigan replied pulling his britches down from a drying line and handing them to him.  
“But without yours and your mother’s help, I don’t know how long we would have survived. Where are the others that were with me?” Damien asked.  
“Outside with your fellow Wardens,” Morrigan responded. Damien paused and looked back over at the girl.  
“Wardens? As in more than one?” Damien asked. He waited for the answer nearly paralyzed with the hope that others might have survived hand happened upon Morrigan and her mother.  
“Yes, two of the others who were with you before. Mother rescued from for the tower,” Morrigan answered looking at him curiously.  
Damien threw caution and decency to the wind and threw off the blanket revealing himself entirely as he slipped on his britches and rushed out the door. He tied the draw strings around his waist as he looked around the group outside the hut.  
Alistair and Alyssa leapt to their feet as Damien charged them. He embraced them both as they caught him. The youth was unsure whether to laugh, cry, scream, or howl. He simply could not believe the two least likely wardens to survive the battle were there with them.  
“Maker, we thought you were dead,” Damien said refusing to let go of the two of them.  
“Look who’s talking, Morrigan’s mother told us that everyone else was dead. We were about to leave when you and the others showed up,” Alistair said patting Damien on the back.  
“How are you feeling?” Alyssa asked stepping back and looking him over.  
“Better. Whatever Morrigan and her mother did for me, it worked really well,” Damien said rubbing his forehead.  
“Glad to hear it. We weren’t sure you were going to wake up again,” Lyna added standing up as well.  
“How did you two get out of the tower?” Damien asked releasing his comrades and taking a few steps back.  
“I think before we get into the story telling, you might want to put on some clothes,” Alistair said nodding toward Damien’s half naked body.  
“Right,” Damien stated with a nod. He smirked and jogged over to Carver, stealing his helmet from beside him and placing it on his head. “Okay, so how?”  
Damien did his best to keep a straight face as the group burst into fits of laughter, but he couldn’t hold it. He smiled broadly before tossing the helmet back to his companion and heading back for the door of the hut. He dressed quickly in his tunic and boots, laying his armor over his arm, and heading back out the door.  
The rest of the group had settled down some as he joined them around the fire. Lyna apparently had been explaining Damien’s role in the battle. Damien thought it sounded a little extravagant.  
“Actually, that’s not completely true,” Damien said as Lyna finished her story. “Except for the part about Brax hauling me away on his back; that was completely accurate.”  
“I don’t know, I was with you for most of the battle and I think she nailed it,” Lillian added. Carver nodded his agreement looking up respectfully at Damien. It was strange to have people talking about him like he was some kind of war hero when he had lost nearly everyone he had fought with.  
“Embellished or not, I’d say it was impressive,” Morrigan’s mother stated approaching the group.  
“Madam, we really can’t thank you enough for not only aiding us now, but also for saving my fellow wardens,” Damien said bowing deeply and folding his hands in gratitude.   
“Not at all, we cannot have all the Grey Wardens dying at once after all,” the woman said. Perhaps she had meant it more as a joke, but the words hit Damien square in the heart. Could Alistiar, Alyssa, Lyna, and him be all that was left of the order in Fereldan. Surely there were others still out recruiting. What about the man who recruited Lyna, Blackwall?  
“Still, your hospitality is appreciated,” Alyssa added.  
“I’m sorry if this is forward, but could you tell us your name?” Alistair asked.  
“Names are pretty but useless. Though the chasin’d folk call me Flemeth. I suppose it will do.”  
The woman’s words nearly knocked Damien off his feet. Anyone born or raised in Fereldan knew the legend and myth of Flemeth. She was the Witch of the Wilds. A powerful witch capable of living for centuries who would snatch disobedient children from their mothers and devour their souls. Damien figured out a few years before that the devouring souls and stealing children was likely just a bedtime story to keep children well behaved. However it did explain the immense power he had felt, but Damien quickly realized he was not feeling anywhere near the pressure he had when they first arrived.  
“The Flemeth from the Legend?” Alistair said in awe. “Daveth was right, you’re the Witch of the Wilds.”  
“And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic and it has served you all well,” the woman responded.  
“He didn’t mean anything by it. I think we are just all in shock, but that explains the power I felt. Though, not why I don’t feel much now,” Damien said stepping closer to her.  
“Your senses come from the magic that has sunk into your muscles and bones from your use of it to run and fight. However, your wound and accessing your power to keep moving to find us exhausted your power,” Flemeth answered chuckling to herself. “It will return in time.”  
“Great, but how can I control it? I mean, if I run into a powerful mage, I don’t know how I could fight with that kind of pressure weighing me down,” Damien asked.  
“That, you will have to figure out on your own,” Flemeth responded.  
The group grew quiet and looked around at each other. Damien could tell they were all looking for the same thing he was; a plan. Something for them to head toward.  
“So, anyone have any idea what we’re supposed to do now?” Alistair asked. He might have been a little goofy and clueless sometimes, but Damien had to admit, the templar was growing on him. Perhaps it was the taint in their blood, but he felt closer to all his fellow wardens than anyone else in the world. They were his family now. He had to protect them.  
“It has always been the Grey Wardens’ duty to unite the lands against the Blight, or did that change when I wasn’t looking?” Flemeth asked.  
“I’m not sure how we are supposed to unite anyone. Loghain betrayed King Cailan and left the entire order to die,” Alyssa said sullenly.  
“It doesn’t make any sense. The teyrn is a war hero. Why would he do this?” Alistair replied. Damien rubbed his chin and took a seat near the fire. He tried to think of any reason why Loghain would want the darkspawn to win, but nothing made sense.  
“That is a good question. Men’s hearts hold shadows far darker than any tainted creature,” Flemeth responded. Damien looked up at her still thinking. He had to figure this out. If they could understand why Loghain betrayed the king, then maybe they could prove his treason to the other lords. Maker only knew what Loghain had said to explain the defeat at Ostagar. “Perhaps he thinks the Blight is an army he can outmaneuver. Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true threat.”  
Damien’s blood ran cold as the images of the purple and black dragon breathing fire and roaring down at him filled his thoughts. Slaying a dragon was the work of heroes, but slaying an archdemon seemed nearly impossible. His eyes raised and he could see his own fears mirrored in the eyes of his warden comrades.  
“What evil?” Lillian asked.  
“The archdemon,” Lyna answered softly as if mentioning the beast’s name too loudly might draw the monster to them.  
“We have to kill the thing to end the Blight right? So we need to find it,” Alyssa suggested.  
“By ourselves? No Grey Warden has ever defeated a Blight without a sizable army behind them. No to mention, I don’t know how we would even do it,” Alistair stated in shock. Damien listened but remained seated and quiet. He wanted hear what everyone was thinking while he tried to figure out what needed to be done.  
“How to kill the archdemon, or build an army? It seems to me, those are two different questions. Have the Wardens no allies?” Flemeth asked. Damien smirked. Flemeth knew the answer. She had given them the treaties. It seemed like she was trying to build their confidence in their abilities by letting them figure it out on their own.  
“I… I don’t know. Duncan said the Wardens in Orlais had been called, and Arl Eamon would never stand for something like this,” Alistair stammered. Damien looked up. He recognized that name. Arl Eamon, the Arl of Redcliffe and uncle to the late king. By all accounts, a good and well respected man.  
“Why would the Arl take our word over whatever Teyrn Loghain has said?” Alyssa asked.  
“I know him. He’s a good man and respected in the Landsmeet. We could go to Redcliffe, ask him for help,” Alistair answered looking over at the lady. Damien watched the group. They seemed to be formulating a plan, but there was still the issue of an army. Redcliffe’s forces would not be anywhere near enough. They needed the treaties from Ostagar if they were going to have a chance at forming an army large enough to defeat the Blight. Damien stood slowly as all eyes turned to him.  
“The Arl may have all his men since he wasn’t at Ostagar, but he can’t face the blight alone. We need the treaties from the King’s camp at Ostagar. Those need to be a priority for us,” Damien stated.  
“Of course, the treaties. They give the Wardens the authority to enlist help from elves, mages, dwarves, and many others,” Alistair added.  
“I may be old, but mages, elves, dwarves, and this Arl Eamon, that sounds like the makings of an army to me,” Flemeth stated with a knowing smile.  
“So, do you think we could do it? Go to Redcliffe and these other places and build an army?” Alyssa asked looking over at Damien.  
“We’re Grey Wardens. It’s what we do,” Damien answered. “But first, we need to find somewhere to resupply. I feel naked without my daggers. After that, we can head to Ostagar and retrieve the treaties from the king’s chest.”  
“Sounds good. I left a few darkspawn there that deserve a sword through the middle,” Alsitair snarled clenching his fist.  
“So you are ready then? Ready to become Grey Wardens?” Flemeth asked.  
“Ready has nothing to do with it,” Damien responded. “We have to do this or watch the world burn.”  
Flemeth smiled and nodded. “How true, there is one more thing I can do for you to help you on your journey,” Flemeth stated.  
As she finished talking Morrigan stepped to her side holding a large wooden spoon. Likely for whatever meal she was preparing for them.  
“The stew is bubbling, mother. Shall we have six guests for the eve, or none?” Morrigan asked looking around the group.  
“The Wardens are leaving shortly, girl. And you will be joining them,” Flemeth said calmly. Damien raised an eyebrow. True, the young witch would be useful, if her magic was as powerful as he had originally assumed, but was she even willing to join them?  
“Such a shame…what?” Morrigan exclaimed looking back at her mother. Damien nearly burst out laughing from the sudden exclamation.  
“You heard me, girl. Last time I looked, you had ears,” Flemeth stated chuckling to herself.  
“Her magic would certainly be useful, but if she doesn’t want to come…” Damien started.  
“Consider this as payment for saving yours and your comrades’ lives,” Flemeth interrupted. Damien sighed and nodded.  
“Have I no say in this?” Morrigan protested.  
“You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Now here is your chance,” Flemeth answered. Damien rubbed the back of his neck and looked around the group. No one really seem to have anything to say, but he could see Alistair was uncomfortable with the arrangement.  
“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but outside the Wilds, she’s an apostate,” Alistair stated.  
“So am I,” Damien responded quickly.  
“And if you did not want help from us illegal mages, perhaps I would have left you on that tower,” Flemeth stated, crossing her arms.   
“Point taken,” Alistair said, lowering his gaze in shame.  
“Mother, this is not how I wanted this… I’m not even ready,” Morrigan protested again. Damien could see the girl was scared though she was trying to hide it. He had to admit, if thrust into her circumstances, he would have been too.  
“You must be ready. Alone, these few must unite Fereldan against the darkspawn. They need you Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight, even I,” the old woman retorted. Her statement sound more remorseful than Damien had expected. Would Flemeth miss her daughter or was she fearful that they might fail even with Morrigan, resulting in all of their deaths? Damien didn’t like thinking such things.  
“I…” Morrigan sighed in defeat. “I understand.”  
“And you Wardens? Do you understand? I give you that which I value above all in this world. I do this because you must succeed,” Flemeth stated looking straight at Damien. The youth wanted to look away from the intense gaze of the old witch, but he knew he needed to show strength.  
“Don’t worry. While with us, she will not come to harm,” Damien stated. That was a promise he could keep. Morrigan could stay back from the frontline of any fight, and if necessary, he would defend her with his own life, just as he would for anyone else in their group.  
“Allow me to get my things if you please,” Morrigan said before turning back to the hut and heading inside.  
“Damien, about what you said,” Alyssa said as he returned to his seat around the fire.  
“Yes?”  
“The treaties still being at Ostagar. How are we supposed to get to them? I’m sure the darkspawn are still there,” Alyssa said.  
“It doesn’t matter. If I have to sneak into the camp alone to get those treaties then I will, but we’ll see what the situation is after we resupply and rearm ourselves. No offense, but that sword of yours looks like it took a beating in the tower,” Damien said motioning to the blade on her hip. He could clearly see a bend in the blade and a piece of the hilt had been broken clean off.  
“That’s what happens when an ogre steps on your blade,” Alyssa said looking down at the sword mournfully. Damien sighed remembering the night in the castle and how Alyssa and her mother had gone to their vault to save their family sword.  
“That’s the Cousland family sword, isn’t it?” Damien asked looking up at the former noble.  
“Yes, but I’m afraid it is little good in a fight now,” Alyssa confessed.  
“It’s more useful than my blade,” Damien admitted pulling the small knife from his boot and twirling it between his fingers.  
“I suppose it is,” Alyssa responded smiling.  
Damien smiled back. As much as everyone wanted to worry about what happened at Ostagar, he needed to keep them focused on staying alive and keeping up the fight. Perhaps humor was less tactful given their situation, but something needed to work to cheer everyone up.  
A smirk appeared across his face as he picked a reed from the swamp bank and snuck behind Alistair as the man sharpened his sword. Lyna spotted him almost immediately and watched, obviously curious about what he was up to. Lillian and Carver saw him next as he brushed the edge of the reed against Alistair’s ear. The templar shook his head without stopping what he was doing. Damien made a goofy face causing his three observers to snicker, drawing the attention of Alyssa who immediately covered her mouth trying not to laugh as Damien continued to brush the reed against Alistair’s ear.  
“I swear the mosquitoes are going to drive me mad,” Alistair said using his hand with his whet stone to wave the non-existent bugs away.  
“Alistair, I don’t see any bugs around you. I think you’re already going mad,” Lyna stated. Damien caught her gaze and smirked, drawing a smile to the elf’s lips.  
“What are you talking about? I can feel them on my ear,” Alistair responded as Damien repeated the motion.  
Damien decided the prank had gone on for long enough and smacked Alistair in the side of the head with the reed, causing the cattail on the end to explode releasing a small cloud of white fuzz all over him.  
The templar fell over, dropping his sword and swatting at the white balls of fuzz that encircled him. The reaction caused an explosion of laughter from the rest of the group, even Flemeth. Brax started prancing about trying to catch some of the pale orbs in his mouth resulting in him stepping on Alistair a few times. This increased the laughter from the group causing Carver to fall over as his face turned red.  
“What was that for?” Alistair protested looking up at Damien as the youth was doubled over laughing.  
“Oh Maker, that was funny!” Damien exclaimed tossing the reed aside. “That, my friend, was for fun.”  
“If only we could all enjoy such things,” Morrigan stated approaching. She must have finished packing and come back while Damien was performing the prank.  
“What? You didn’t enjoy that? You of all people?” Damien asked crossing his arms.  
“To make a buffoon look more foolish is a talent. I simply wish to have been the one performing the prank,” Morrigan said smiling down at Alistair.  
The group gathered up everything they could and stowed some food for the journey. Morrigan stated that she would lead them around the horde and out of the Wilds to Lothering so they could resupply. Damien believed it to be the best idea. He had a feeling that the horde was still at Ostagar, doing whatever it was that darkspawn did to celebrate a victory. An equally strong feeling told him that whatever those activities were, he did not want to know or see them.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
After a day and a half of constant hiking, the group found themselves on the imperial highway approaching Lothering. Damien didn’t sense any darkspawn nearby but he had the feeling that they should be cautious. His instincts had saved him multiple times before, but they had also led to the deaths of all the men that had followed him in the battle at Ostagar.  
Ahead of them he could see overturned wagons blocking the highway. He knew what that meant. Bandits. It made sense. Refugees were fleeing the south in droves carrying everything of value they had to try and escape the darkspawn. Intelligent bandits might try to impersonate soldiers and take up small collections from every caravan, but from the look of things, these bandits were taking everything they could.  
“Lillian, can you loan me one of your daggers?” Damien asked raising a hand to stop the group.  
“Sure, but what’s going on?” Lillian asked, pulling a blade from its sheath and handing it to him.  
“I think there might be some highway men up a head. I want all of you to hang back,” Damien said accepting the dagger from Lillian. He then turned to Alyssa. “If you don’t mind Alyssa, I’d like to take Brax with me. I might be able to get more information if it looks like I’m alone, but Brax can back me up just in case.”  
Alyssa nodded and patted the dog on his big shoulders. “You watch each others’ backs, okay?” The dog barked his acknowledgement as Damien smiled and nodded.  
“Alright boy, let’s go,” Damien said rubbing the dog’s ears.  
Damien advanced on the road block slowly with Brax right next to him. It felt better having at least one dagger. He’d rather have two, but one would be fine. His magic was still weak. He would have to rely only on his skill with a blade, as limited as it was.  
He could see the bandits moving into flanking positions as he got closer with three men approaching him from the front.  
“Greetings friend, I’m afraid you are passing a toll area and I will need to collect 20 silvers from you,” the leader said tapping the grip of the mace hanging from his belt. Damien smirked. The man’s hands were not blistered or scarred from hard work. Most likely, the man had been a con-man, a two-copper swindler. The only thing that gave this man his advantage was the number of people with him, but, as with any beast, removing the head was the fastest way to kill any larger, more powerful creature.  
“20 silvers huh? Seems like you’re setting your sights a little low,” Damien said reaching back and drawing the dagger. “Seems to me you should be asking for everything. Weapons, armor, boots, anything and everything you could take to make a little extra.”  
“Now is that anyway to speak,” the leader started again.  
“Um… boss, he don’t look much like them others… maybe should let this one pass,” a rather simple sounding man stammered.  
“The toll applies to everyone, no exceptions,” the leader replied, keeping his charming façade.  
“Do you really want to do this?” Damien asked, watching the men on his flanks carefully. “You know tangling with a Grey Warden is never a good idea.”  
He could see the blood drain from most of the bandits’ faces. He could see the fear in their eyes as he twirled the dagger in his hand.  
“Grey Warden? Ain’t them the ones who murdered the king?” the simple man said. Damien stopped holding his blade completely still. His heart pounded through every inch of his body.  
“What did you just say?” Damien snarled through clenched teeth.  
“Teyrn Loghain has put out a bounty on any Grey Warden. Looks like you might just bag us fifty sovereigns,” the leader answered.  
Damien’s blood boiled sending flaming rage through every extremity. His grip tightened on his dagger and he attacked without another word. The blade ripped through both flesh and bone on the leader’s right arm separating his hand from the rest of his body. The man screamed out in pain and shock as he tumbled backward, but Damien’s attention had already turned to the man on the leader’s left. Using the simple man as a spring board, Damien kicked off the man’s chest and drove his dagger through the other’s chest skewering his heart even through the man’s armor. He ripped the blade from the man’s chest and pointed the tip of the dagger at the simple man’s throat.  
He knew these men were not responsible for the deaths at Ostagar. He knew they were just opportunistic thieves taking advantage of a horrible situation. He understood that probably better than anyone, but to hear that Loghain called the Grey Wardens the traitors and people were believing him… the very thought boiled the blood in his veins to the point of blind rage.  
He noticed quickly that Brax had locked his jaws on the boot of the simple man, but the mabari quickly released upon seeing Damien’s blade pointed at the man. The dog panted happily as he stood at Damien’s side waiting for orders.  
“Run,” the young warden hissed. He wanted more blood. He wanted to kill every last one of these bastards, but it was only sporting to give them the opportunity to save themselves. “If you ever come back here, I will hunt you down and kill you all. Drop your weapons and flee.” Damien’s order echoed off the stone arches and road as he watched the men on both flanks dropped every weapon they had and scurried off like frightened rabbits.  
“Maker’s mercy, please. Don’t kill me,” the leader begged from the ground doing his best to stop the bleeding from his now handless right arm. Damien knelt next to him and quickly wrapped a ripped cloth around the nub as close to the end as possible. He then took a spoke from one of the wagon wheels and made a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.  
“You’ll need healing magic, but you’ll live for now. Now, give me everything you’ve collected,” Damien said, ripping a large piece of the fallen bandit’s tunic off and tying over where the severed hand had been.  
“It’s all in our wagon down the ramp. We hid it behind the brush down there,” the man answered still clutching his wounded arm tight to his chest.  
“My thanks. Now, leave and never return. If you do, I’ll kill you, and if I’m not here to do it, the darkspawn will,” Damien threatened. As if to punctuate the point, Brax growled viciously as the man scrambled to his feet before sprinting away north up the highway.  
“Most impressive,” Morrigan said approaching him from behind.  
Damien turned to see the rest of his companions all standing behind him. Lyna, Lillian, Carver, and Morrigan all looked rather impressed with his abilities, but Alyssa and Alistair looked like they had just witnesses a murder.  
“Search everything and collect their weapons. They have a wagon down the ramp that we’re going to commandeer. I don’t know about the rest of you but I don’t want to have to carry a tent, bedrolls, food, supplies, and weapons,” Damien ordered handing Lillian her dagger back. He searched around and found two daggers one of the bandits dropped. They were beaten up and not very sharp, but they would be better than nothing, and he could surely find a smith in Lothering to sharpen them up.  
“We heard what they said,” Alyssa stated stepping to Damien’s side as he picked up a massive greatsword and headed toward the ramp.  
“About Loghain calling us traitors and king slayers?” Damien asked making his way down the ramp. The leader had been telling the truth. A black mare stood grazing next to a wagon packed full with the gang’s loot.  
“Yes, and I was wondering what we should do about it. The teyrn is respected throughout Fereldan. People would believe just about anything he said,” Alyssa stated as Damien slipped the large sword into the wagon, making sure not to damage anything inside.  
“We’ll have to lay low for a little while and probably hide our warden armor. Let’s see if they confiscated anything that might fit us,” Damien said climbing up into the wagon. He hated the idea of taking off the blue and silver armor. It fit perfectly and kept him warm. Not to mention it was a simple matter of pride. He felt truly satisfied identifying himself as a Grey Warden. He sighed as he pulled a bag of clothes that looked like they would fit them pretty well.  
“Damien!” Alistair shouted from the road. The young warden leapt out of the wagon and sprinted up the ramp to find Alistair standing over the body of a knight; the coat of arms on the man’s shield announcing that he was a knight of Redcliffe.  
“Damn those bastards to the Fade,” Alistair cussed kneeling beside the body.  
“He’s long dead Alistair. Gather his armor and any personal effects he might have. Maybe when we go see Arl Eamon, we can find his family,” Damien said as his fingers tugged at his scarf and wrapped around the wooden pendant around his neck. If the knight had family, it was the least they could do since they were headed that way anyway.  
Damien turned back down the ramp but Alistair grabbed his arm. “Wait, we can’t just leave him.”  
“Alistair, we can’t take the body with us. I’m sorry but that’s the way it is. Take what’s useful and any personal items his family might want and keep moving,” Damien stated coldly. He knew Alistair wouldn’t like that, but that was the reality they were in. The dead had to be left where they fell.  
“We can’t just leave him!” Alistair exclaimed.  
“Yes we can. I know you want to take care of this man but we can’t,” Damien snapped. Alistair stopped and wet his lips looking down at the corpse. Damien could see there was something else behind his desire to care for the fallen knight’s body.   
“We left so many Wardens on the field at Ostagar, and they… their bodies will never be laid to rest with the honor they deserve. The very least we could do is give this man a pyre… for all of them. For the Wardens,” Alistair said quietly.  
Damien sighed. He could see how that would be more comforting to Alistair but did they really have time? He didn’t get to honor his friends in Highever either. Maybe this would help him lay them to rest too? Surely they could make the time to give all of them the peace they desperately needed.  
“For the Wardens and all the others who have lost their lives,” Damien said looking over at Alyssa and Lyna. The two women nodded. Damien knew they wanted to pay their respects to their fallen comrades in the wardens as well as those they had lost before they joined up. Lyna having to leave her clan and Alyssa losing her home and her family.  
000  
Damien stood with his comrades around the funeral pyre. He sighed as his right hand clutched both his scarf and his wooden pendant. The chantry had been kind enough to help them with the pyre and say the chant over the man as they laid him to rest. They offered the service as payment for them running the bandits off.  
“Lockey, Heness, Griggs, Duncan, everyone we lost at Ostagar, I don’t want to lose anyone else. If Loghain says the Grey Wardens are traitors, we’re going to have to be very careful,” Damien whispered to Lyna.  
“What are you thinking?” she answered.  
“First, our armor. We should keep it in the wagon for the time being and find new armor we can use. Those bandits may have been criminals but most of the stuff in that wagon could fetch a good enough price for us to get everyone less conspicuous armor,” Damien said tapping the griffon on his chest.  
“And second?”   
“Food. I’m sure you, Alyssa, and Alistair are just as hungry as I am,” Damien answered. Lyna smiled and nodded her agreement as Lillian and Carver approached them.  
“Damien, we were talking about it and we decided that we need to leave. The horde will be here soon and the seven of us can’t defend this place. We are going to get our mother and sister then head north,” Lillian stated.  
“I don’t blame you, Hawke. You’re not a Warden and Family comes first. Once we’re resupplied, we’ll be headed back to Ostagar for the Warden treaties. I wish you would stay, we could use the help, but I understand why you can’t,” Damien said.  
“Oh, we’re not leaving yet. We’ll stick with you until you leave for Ostagar. Most of the merchants and smiths around town know us and we should be able to get you some good equipment,” Carver explained.  
“We appreciate that,” Lyna said keeping her eyes on the flaming pyre.  
“Why don’t you two head home for now and let your family know you’re alive? We’ll see what we can sell around town and meet you back here at the Chantry,” Damien said placing a hand on his friends’ shoulders.  
“No, no, you are coming to our farm for supper tonight. It’s on the edge of the village on the other side of the north creek, past the windmill,” Lillian demanded. “We’ll stick with you until then.”  
“Thanks. So, where should we head first?” Damien asked heading back toward their new wagon.  
“Well, if what those bandits told you is true, you’ll want to go see Old Man Morray. He’s the best armor smith in town. Works miracles with steel, but he’s just okay with leather armor,” Carver said pointing to a small smithy down the road.  
“Is there anyone else that works leather?” Damien asked.  
“What about Angelic? She’s a seamstress. I got my armor from her,” Lillian said.  
“Sounds good to me, but first we need to trade some of the extra goods in the wagon for some coin. I doubt we have enough to buy new armor for each of us,” Damien said climbing up into the wagon to search through everything.  
“Looks like there’s a merchant over there arguing with Sister Sophia,” Carver replied pointing back toward the chantry.  
“Why not just take what you need? Tis a Blight after all,” Morrigan said stepping out from behind the wagon. Damien’s hand flashed to the blade in his boot upon hearing the statement but relaxed the moment he realized it was her.  
“Maker’s breath Morrigan, how’d you get to be so quiet?” Damien asked.  
“Tis simple, I lived in the Wilds. Silence is key to survival,” Morrigan responded vaguely. Damien nodded his agreement and chuckled.  
“Well, I don’t want to attract much attention. Besides, people work better when they are getting something out of it,” Damien responded. “I’m sure you learned that even in the Wilds.”  
“Tis true, I suppose.”  
Damien continued to dig through the wagon and found several rugs, a roll of silk, some jewelry, and a loose ruby. Just the jewelry and ruby should be enough to get them the armor they needed, but the rugs and silk could commission him a new set of daggers and buy a week’s worth of food. Of course they would also need tents and bedrolls, but those he might be able to buy with the small coin purse he had on him during the battle.  
“Alright, Morrigan, can you keep an eye on the wagon for us while we get what we need? I think it might be a good idea for you to keep your distance from the templars. I don’t want to have to explain why you killed all of them,” Damien said. He knew how powerful Morrigan was and it would be far too easy for her to kill the last remaining templars in Lothering.  
“I am glad you see they would be powerless against me. Very well, I shall watch over the wagon,” she said before turning and heading up to the front to stroke the horse’s smooth face.  
“Carver, once we get the money from the merchant, I want you to take Alyssa and Alistair over to your smith friend. Lyna and I will follow Lillian to the seamstress,” Damien said handing Carver a few of the rugs to carry.  
“Works for me,” Carver replied lifting the massive roll of fabric onto his shoulder. Damien handed the silk to Lillian and the gem and jewelry to Lyna before picking what remained of the rugs. He hoped that no one would recognize the armor he and his companions had on before they had a chance to change.  
As the four approached the merchant with their goods, Damien could hear the argument between the Chantry sister and the man running the cart. Apparently, the man was charging too much for basic necessities to the people who were too desperate to care how much it cost.  
“You there, care to make a few silvers?” the merchant shouted looking over at Damien and his group.  
“Depends on the job,” Damien answered setting the rugs down.  
“I’ll pay you fifty silvers if you run this wench off and keep her away,” the merchant declared.  
Damien cocked his head to the side. This scumbag had the gall to ask him to do something so malicious… Oh, he was going to pay. Damien took a quick breath. Beating the man within an inch of his life would do nothing, but getting money from him for their goods would help him and his group. Besides, if this man was doing what the sister accused him off, one thief certainly deserves to get robbed by another.  
“Look, the refugees are desperate, and I get you’re just trying to make a living, but don’t you think you’re being a little bit excessive. Just charge what you would normally and your reputation will improve around town which will bring in more customers and make more money. Trust me, it’s sound business,” Damien said. The merchant rubbed his chin and nodded before looking over at the sister.  
“Fine, fine, as long as you agree I can charge something,” the merchant said.   
“As long as it does not impoverish the needy,” the sister replied. She then turned to Damien and bowed. “You have my thanks stranger. Maker keep you.”  
“And you sister.” Damien bowed in response before turning back to the merchant. “Okay, I was hoping to get something for the goods I brought. The rugs will sell for a sovereign a piece in Denerim,” Damien started.  
The merchant and Damien haggled back and forth for ten minutes over the price of their goods but they ended up agreeing on five sovereigns for everything. With the money they already had, it would be more than enough to outfit the wardens with new armor and buy new tents and bedrolls for all of them. But there was something he still had to do, he had to get back at the man for his insolence toward the Chantry sister. Using his magic he reached out from the other side of the wagon and pulled his purse off his belt and levitated it toward him under the cart. He smirked as the purse slipped into his hand.  
“That was sneaky,” Lyna said smiling.  
“And impressive,” Lillian added as the four of them made their way back to the wagon. Damien opened the purse and examined the contents. The man had nearly thirty sovereigns worth of coins. More money than Damien had ever seen in his life. They could buy plenty of supplies, weapons, armor, and even horses with that money.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
The new armor fit perfectly, even better than his Warden armor that now rested in a trunk in the back of their wagon along with the other three suits. Damien had thought Alistair might have cried when they locked them away, though they did keep their Joining pendants around their necks. Damien didn’t feel right hiding everything away like that but it would keep them safer on the road and in any towns or cities they passed through.  
Damien decided he would stop in the tavern with Lyna and Carver to see what news they could over hear while there. Hopefully they could get a location and a sense of Loghain’s plans. Maybe even hear about any other Grey Wardens that might have escaped the battle.  
“Brody is the barkeep here. Always has an ear out for stories and rumors, but don’t get him talking too much or he’ll never shut up,” Carver warned as they approached the door.  
“Sounds like my kind of place,” Damien said pushing the door open. “How’s the ale?”  
“Just like ale from any other tavern I’d guess,” Carver stated.  
“I guess we’ll just pass on the ale then,” Damien said stepping inside.  
Similar to most of the other taverns Damien had been in before, the building commons was filled with tables and droves of people. He pulled his scarf up over his nose and mouth and pulled his hood down over his eyes. He doubted anyone would know he was a Warden on sight but he wanted to err on the side of safety.  
The trio took seats at the bar as Damien listened to the conversations around him. It was a skill he had picked up in his travels. A thief could learn a lot about guard rotations, food deliveries, and all other sorts of things from tavern conversations. The trick was being able to focus on multiple discussions at a time while comprehending and remembering everything.  
He heard some groups talking about the approaching darkspawn with fear in their voices, but that was not news. He knew the horde was still at Ostagar so he tried to ignore those conversations as best he could. A few were questioning how the Grey Wardens could betray the king and some doubted the rumor. Damien had to suppress the urge to beat some sense into those people.  
“Has anyone seen a Grey Warden around here? We heard a rumor that one was spotted entering Lothering. In the name of Teyrn Loghain, I demand you hand him over,” a soldier shouted as he burst into the tavern. Damien lowered his head. He waited but no one responded.  
“What do we do?” Lyna whispered.  
“Keep our heads down. We only fight if we have to,” Damien answered.  
“Hey, you whelps hear me? I know someone has seen him!” the soldier shouted kicking over a table. Damien clenched his jaw as the man turned and smashed another table. He hated men like him. True, Damien was a thief but he never damaged the properties he stole from.  
“Maybe if we knew what the Warden looked like, we could tell you and you could stop trashing my place,” the barkeep roared.  
“He’s wearing blue and silver armor with a scarf and a hood,” the soldier snapped. “Now, where is he?”  
“Touch anything else in this tavern and you and I are going to have a problem,” the barkeep growled. Damien looked over at the man still keeping his head low. If the soldiers threatened anyone else, he wasn’t sure if he could hold back his anger anymore. Yet Carver reacted first.  
“How about you idiots get out of here,” Carver roared turning and facing the soldier. Damien turned and saw a whole squad was with the man. If Carver picked a fight in these cramped quarters, some of the innocent people might get hurt.  
“Look at this men, a brave one,” the soldier taunted tapping his sword.  
“Please, this is a no doubt another one of the Maker’s children simply trying to escape the Blight,” a chantry sister said stepping between Carver and the soldier. Damien recognized her from their stop in Lothering before Ostagar. She was the sister that helped Alyssa and prayed with her.  
“Stay out of this sister,” the soldier snarled. That was the last straw. Damien stood and turned. He moved forward and slugged the man across the jaw, knocking him to the floor.  
“You want the Warden, I’m right here,” Damien snapped pulling his pendant out from under his tunic. He held it up so the griffon emblem could easily be seen. If anyone was going to fight these thugs, it would be him.  
“Arrest this traitor!” the soldier ordered from the floor.  
Damien stepped back in to a fighting stance and drew both his daggers. “I was with the king’s force during the battle. Do you really think someone who survived the horde can be killed by you weaklings?” Damien hoped the threat would be enough to dissuade the soldiers from wanting blood, but nothing seemed to alter their goal as their leader scrambled back to his feet.  
Carver jumped to Damien’s side as did Lyna. To his surprise, the chantry sister stood next to them as well drawing her own dagger. Why would a chantry sister need to be armed, especially in a peaceful village like this? Damien made a note to keep an eye on the woman. She may have thought she was doing the right thing, but she was probably about to get herself killed.  
“Arrest the Warden, kill anyone that defends him,” the soldier ordered as the group drew their weapons.  
“These are Loghain’s men. Show them the mercy the teyrn showed the king,” Damien said calmly. The soldiers wanted blood. The last thing he was going to do was let servants of a traitor live and risk Loghain sending more soldiers after him.  
The soldiers lunged forward, but Damien was faster. He blocked the first strike with his left blade and slashed the soldier across the throat with his right. The skill of these men certainly left something to be desired. Their training was that of a typical soldier, trained to fight on open fields with a large unit, while Damien, Carver, and Lyna had learned their fighting styles through experience fighting alone. Even the chantry sister moved with the lethal grace of a trained killer. Damien knew that this woman had not always been a part of the chantry.  
It took less than ten seconds to kill all but two of the soldiers leaving only the leader and another on the ground frightened and out of breath. Damien brought his blades down under the leader’s chin.  
“We surrender, please don’t kill us,” the leader begged dropping his sword.  
“So you can run back to that traitor Loghain. I should kill you just for that allegiance,” Damien growled. Rage boiled his blood as his blades shook in his hands. Sure he had killed men and beasts before but always either in battle or hunting for food, but this man was unarmed and had surrendered. If he killed this man now, it would be murder.  
Damien sheathed his weapons and knelt in front of the man. If he didn’t kill him, maybe he could shake up things in the capital and cause some problems for Loghain. “Tell your master I know what he did. I know he is the true traitor, but if he will stay out of my way, I will continue to fight the Blight. That’s what Wardens do.” He made sure not to mention that there was more than one of them. The less Loghain knew about the other Wardens the better.  
“I’ll… I’ll tell him,” the soldier cried jumping to his feet and sprinting out the door. His last man followed close behind.  
“Maker’s breath, you’re a little scary sometime, you know that?” Carver said patting Damien on the shoulder.  
“Really? I thought it came across kind of forced,” Damien joked tucking his pendant back in his tunic. He reached into his coin purse and pulled out ten silvers and laid them on the bar. “Sorry about the mess.”  
“I am glad you chose to spare them,” the sister said stepping in front of them before they could leave.  
“Yeah, I’m a flaming sweetheart,” Damien said nudging Lyna who smirked at the remark.  
“Hello Sister Leliana,” Carver said as his cheeks filled with color.  
“It is good to see you still live,” Leliana said softly, giving the young warrior a warm smile.  
“Wait, I remember you. You were the one that helped Alyssa when we were here the first time,” Damien said softly as he lowered his scarf from his face.  
“You said you were a Grey Warden, right?” Leliana said smiling.  
“That’s right,” Damien answered. He was slightly apprehensive about divulging anything more to the sister. He had not seen such a fighting style as hers, not even at Ostagar with all the warriors who had gathered together. The skill with her blade as well as her accent screamed ‘banished warrior’ in his mind, but there was such grace in the way she moved and spoke… there had to be something else in her past other than training as a warrior.  
“I hoped that I might accompany you in the fight against the Blight,” Leliana said folding her hands in front of her.  
“Why?” Lyna asked quickly before Damien could.  
“Because I know you will need it, and the Maker told me to,” Leliana said cheerfully.  
Wait… the Maker told her to? What does she mean by that? Could she really know what the Maker wanted?  
“I think you’re going to have to explain that last part,” Damien said scratching his head.  
“I know that must sound strange… but I had a dream, a vision. I know this is the right path for me to take,” Leliana stated wringing her hands.  
Damien sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. She certainly had skills that would help them in their travels, but the idea of having a strange woman with them on the road when they had no idea about her background made Damien uneasy. Plus, her claiming she had a vision from the Maker just made her sound crazy. He sighed and looked over at Lyna. She was the only one with him at that moment who would be continuing on with them and he respected her instincts.  
“What do you think Lyna?” Damien asked.  
“She certainly fights well, like fen, like a wolf. I say let her come for now. If she proves untrustworthy, then we make her leave,” Lyna stated.  
“Works for me,” Damien agreed before turning back to Leliana. “Alright, this is probationary, understand? If anyone in our group starts doubting your loyalty to our cause, you’re out. Fair?”  
“I suppose I can’t blame you for being cautious, but I swear on my life I will protect you and your friends,” Leliana responded.  
“Good enough for me. Let’s get out of here, I’m starving,” Damien said rubbing his stomach.  
“Thank the Creators, I’m not the only one,” Lyna said falling in line.  
“I’m sure Mother and Bethany have dinner ready by now,” Carver added.  
The four made their way out of the tavern and through the northern town gate, which was little more than a gap in the waist high palisade that was their only line of defense on the northern approach. Damien remembered passing it in the night when they first arrived, but he spotted something that he had not seen before, a prison cage with a large, humanoid being locked inside.  
“What’s the story on that?” Damien asked nodding toward the cage.   
“The Revered Mother said that he slaughtered a family. No one knows why,” Leliana said softly. There was a hint of fear in her voice that made Damien weary of approaching the creature, but if there was a possibility that the man could help in their fight…  
Damien turned and approached the cage. He remembered what it was like in one such cage after he had been caught pick pocketing in the market district in Amaranthine. It was a fate he would not even wish on Loghain especially with the darkspawn rapidly approaching the defenseless village.  
“I hear you’re a murderer,” Damien said bluntly.  
“You are not one of my captors, yet you come to mock me,” the prisoner said in a stoic voice.  
“I didn’t mean it as mockery. I genuinely want to know if you are a stone cold killer, or if there was a reason. See, I’m in need of skilled warriors to help me fight the Blight,” Damien informed the being.  
“The Blight? Are you a Grey Warden then?”  
“I am. My name is Damien.”  
Lyna stepped up next to him. “What are you, if you don’t mind my curiosity?” she asked.  
“I am Sten of the Barasaad. The Vanguard of the Qunari people,” the prisoner responded. Damien raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms. He had heard of the Qunari during his travels through Fereldan, but it was always in the same conversations as the Tevinter Imperium. The two nations had been at war since the Qunari arrived on the northern shore.  
“Sten, are you a soldier?” Damien asked stepping closer.  
“I am.” The response made Damien a little curious.  
“If I could get you out of there, would you fight with us against the Blight?” Damien asked.  
“If you were to secure my freedom, I would fight,” Sten answered.  
“Alright then, I’ll be back to free you soon,” Damien replied. He knew the creature was imprisoned for murder, but if he was willing to fight with them, maybe… He wasn’t about to trust Sten by any stretch of the imagination, but a strong warrior could certainly come in handy in a fight. Maybe the same deal as with Leliana. Probationary.  
“Those words maybe hollow, but I will await your return,” Sten stated. His tone still had not changed through the entire conversation. Damien wondered if all Qunari were like that.  
“Come on, Let’s go talk to the Revered mother and see if she would release him to us,” Damien said.  
“Wait, what about dinner?” Lyna asked.  
“You can go ahead with Carver if you want. Leliana knows the Revered mother, right?” Damien asked turning to the red head.  
“Of course,” she replied with a smile.  
“Then you can help me convince her Reverence that the Qunari could do some good with us rather than waste away in a cage waiting for death,” Damien stated.  
“I suppose,” Leliana replied.  
“If you’re sure,” Carver said.  
“Hey, before you go, how do I find your family’s farm?” Damien asked.  
“Oh I can show you the way later,” Leliana stated.  
“Yeah, she’s been over the house before with food during the bad harvest a couple years ago,” Carver agreed.  
“Works for me. You two go on ahead and save three plates for us. Warden size portion for me please,” Damien said smiling as he turned back toward the village.  
“You got it,” Lyna answered.  
000  
The inside of the chantry seemed peaceful in comparison to the craziness in the refugee camp and the tavern. Most of the people were silently praying or listening to the preaching of the Chantry brothers and sisters.  
“This way,” Leliana said leading Damien down the aisle and over toward the Revered Mother’s quarters.  
Damien kept a close eye on the Templars standing guard around the Chantry, but they seemed to be completely oblivious to his magic power. Could they really not sense him at all? None of his fellow Wardens knew about his abilities except those who had seen him use them in battle. The thought was slightly comforting, but did little to ease his weariness of the Templar knights.  
As they entered the Revered Mother’s quarters, they found the woman sitting in the middle of the room behind a desk reading what looked to be a prayer book. Likely trying to figure out what to say to the masses that had entered the village seeking safety.  
“Good evening Sister Leliana,” the old woman said warmly.  
“Good evening Your Reverence, I’d like to introduce someone to you,” Leliana started.  
“It’s truly a pleasure, Revered Mother. My name is Damien,” the youth said bowing deeply. He wanted to make sure to cut Leliana off before she could mention the fact that he was a Grey Warden. He did not want to risk exposing his identity to anyone with influence who might believe Loghain’s lies.  
“The pleasure is mine, young man. Are you here to offer a donation to the Chantry? Our need has never been greater?” The woman’s comment caused Damien to smirk slightly. She had no idea he use to be one of the people that would get help from the Chantry rather than giving it.  
“Of course, Your Reverence. But I do have a favor to ask in return,” Damien said pulling a sovereign from his purse and placing it on the woman’s desk.  
“Of course my child,” the woman responded waving one of the brothers over to take the donation.  
“You see, I saw the Qunari you have imprisoned and I was hoping that you might release him into my custody,” Damien stated.  
“Then his next victims might count you and I among their murderers,” the woman said obviously shocked by Damien’s request.  
“Your Reverence, please, with us the Qunari might be able to do good. I’m sure of it in fact,” Leliana protested. Damien looked back at his new comrade. It was definitely a good idea to bring her with them. She could speak in a way that caused everyone to pay attention. That coupled with her combat skills would certainly make her an asset to the team.  
The Revered Mother sighed and opened her desk drawer. “I understand in these dark times, sometimes things must be done that we might not completely approve of.” She turned to face the two and handed Leliana a large black key before turning back to her desk.  
“Thank you, Your Reverence. We will keep him out of the village to ensure the peace,” Damien said bowing deeply once more.  
“That would be best,” the woman replied.  
As they left, Damien spotted a knight looking through several books with a Redcliffe shield on his back. If this man knew the knight they found on the highway, they could get the man’s belongings to him and he could return them to the late knight’s family quicker.   
“Excuse me,” Damien said stepping up behind the man.  
“Yes, how can I help you?”  
“I found a comrade of yours on the way here. I was hoping to return a few things to his family,” Damien said taking the small bag out of his shoulder pack and handing it to the knight.  
“Sir Henric’s locket. I was supposed to meet him here and we’d continue on together, but with him gone, I must return to Redcliffe,” the knight said lowering his head.  
“Continue with what?” Damein asked.  
“You see, Arl Eamon is very ill. We were sent out by the Arlessa to search for the Urn of Sacred Ashes. It’s said to be able to heal even the gravest of injuries and illnesses,” the knight explained.  
“I see. I’m sorry to hear that. I had been hoping to speak to the Arl myself on a matter that’s… well… very important,” Damien said sighing.  
“Well, I certainly hope the Arl can recover before you come to see him,” the knight said. “I’m sorry, but I must take my leave.”  
“Good luck in your journey, my friend,” Damien said extending his hand.  
“Good luck to you as well,” the knight stated shaking Damien’s hand. He then turned back to the books and started putting them back on the shelves.  
Damien nodded and headed for the door with Leliana right behind him. He felt like he needed to free Sten and regroup with the rest of the team as quickly as possible. His blood wasn’t telling him the darkspawn were nearby, but he had a gut feeling that danger was quickly approaching.  
When they finally made it to the cage holding Sten, Leliana unlocked the cage allowing Sten to step out. The Qunari nodded his gratitude and fell in line as they made their way across the fields toward the Hawke farm.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
“Well, you’ve certainly been busy,” Alyssa said, meeting Damien and his two new companions at the door of the Hawke’s house. The building was a modest farm house. Damien was astonished that his entire group was able to fit inside along Hawke’s family.  
“Only gathering more allies,” Damien said motioning back to the two behind him.  
“Carver and Lyna told us. I’m surprised the Revered Mother let the Qunari out of the cage,” Alyssa said looking over at the giant.  
“This is Sten of the Barasaad. He’s agreed to help us fight the Blight, and I’m sure you remember Sister Leliana,” Damien said as he motioned to his new companions in turn.  
“It is so good to see you Alyssa. I was worried when I heard the news from Ostagar,” Leliana said stepping forward and embracing the woman.  
“Are all of you going to wait outside or are you going to come in to eat?” a kind faced woman asked coming to the door.  
“You must be the lady of the house,” Damien said stepping forward. “It was extremely kind of your family to offer us food and shelter.”  
“I am assuming that you are Damien, right?” the woman said smiling up at him.  
“Yes ma’am, I am,” Damien said bowing his head.  
“My name is Leandra Hawke, and if half the things I am hearing about you are true, It is my pleasure to welcome you into our home,” she said showing him in. Leliana, Alyssa, and Sten followed close behind.  
Damien looked around the house and found it much larger on the inside than it looked on the outside. The main room held most of the group all eating large bowls of stew. He smirked seeing Morrigan sitting uncomfortably on the far side of the room as close to a window as she could get. Being with a lot of people must make her uncomfortable. Good to see there was a person under the harsh shield she always put up.  
Alistair, Lillian, and Carver were all sitting together on the couch eating. Alistair looked like he was inhaling the food with every bite, while Lillian and Carver looked truly relaxed for the first time in a long time.  
Lyna had perched herself next to the fireplace with her stew and was quietly munching away, while Brax chewed on a large bone laying at her feet.  
“Sten, you and Leliana go ahead and eat. I know you haven’t eaten in some time,” Damien said.  
“Appreciated,” Sten said turning and heading for the pot of stew over the fire with Leliana.  
“It’s good to see you again,” a voice said from behind Damien. He turned to see Bethany standing there holding a bucket of fresh water.  
“You too, Bethany,” Damien said smiling broadly. She blushed slightly as she carried the bucket toward their kitchen.  
Leandra offered him chair and handed him a large bowl of stew with a thick slice of bread. If it had been before the Joining, the bowl would have been a true feast, but now, it hardly seems like enough.  
“Thank you so much for keeping my children safe,” Leandra said touching Damien’s cheek.  
“I did nothing. Your children are skilled warriors and kept themselves safe. I wish they would stay with us, but protecting you and Bethany is far more important,” Damien responded. Leandra looked up at Damien. He could see the sorrow, but also the gratitude in her eyes. He smiled as he dipped his bread in the stew.  
“You really are everything they said you were. I certainly hope you will come visit us when the Blight is over,” Leandra said placing a hand on his shoulder.  
“Where are you and your family going?” Damien asked. He was shocked with what thought immediately came to mind. The only thing in his head was that Bethany would be leaving. Perhaps he could write to her. Would she even want him to write to her?  
“My parents had an estate in Kirkwall. I believe that would be the best place for us to go,” Leandra said softly.  
“With your permission, I would really like to write to Bethany,” Damien said looking down at his food trying to not look to desperate for the answer he wanted.  
“Of course you have permission,” Bethany stated form behind him. Damien jumped slightly and nearly spilled his stew.  
“Oh, um… I… uh…. Thanks,” Damien stammered turning to face her. She was smiling broadly as her cheeks turned a beautiful shade of pink.  
“Hey, hero! Stop flirting with my sister and get over here!” Lillian called from the couch. Damien smiled back at Bethany before heading over to the couch and perching himself on the arm rest.  
“So, your mother says that you guys are headed for Kirkwall. That you’ve got family there,” Damien said. Carver and Lillian exchanged looks.  
“We have an uncle there but we’ve never met him. I’m not sure what would be the best path north though,” Lillian replied, stirring her stew as she thought.  
“I would say head for Waking Seas. There’s a large port there and if there aren’t enough boats, Highever is only a day’s walk away,” Alyssa suggested.  
“I guess we could try cutting across the Bannorn to get there,” Carver suggested.  
“Stick to the roads for now with the rest of the refugees. You’ll be safer as a group,” Damien said downing the last of his stew and setting the bowl aside. “For us, now that we’re equipped and armed, we’re going back to Ostagar.”  
“You still think that’s best?” Alyssa asked.  
“Those treaties will guarantee that we can get help against the darkspawn. I don’t know about you but I’m not entirely sure I could beat the horde on my own,” Damien said rubbing the spot where he had been injured. It didn’t hurt currently, but the memory of the wound did.  
“I say we take the fight to this Loghain and crush you opposition before facing the darkspawn,” Morrigan stated from her seat.  
“That would do nothing but confirm what they are saying about us,” Alistair argued, but then his expression turned from worry to anger. “But I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on that traitorous bastard.”  
“We gather the army first. Then, if Loghain doesn’t fall in line, we eliminate him so our focus can be solely on the darkspawn,” Damien stated sternly. The rest of the group nodded their understanding as they finished eating.  
“So what’s the plan to get back to Ostagar?” Lyna asked.  
“Morrigan, can you get us around the horde again?” Damien asked.  
“Of course.”   
“Why’d I even ask? We’ll circle around the ruins and approach them from the south. We should be able to get to where the King’s camp was before we’re spotted. Any resistance we meet will need to be dispatched quickly and quietly before an alarm can be raised,” Damien said looking around the table. He looked over at their two new companions. Sten did not have the build for stealth combat, so unless he could move silently, He would need to be used as a rear guard with Alyssa and Alistair.  
Damien sighed and looked back over at the Hawke family. “All of you should leave as quickly as you can. I doubt the horde will stay at Ostagar much longer,” Damien said standing.  
“We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” Lillian responded.  
“Same with us, so everyone get a good night sleep. I’ll take first watch,” Damien said heading for the door.  
“No, you won’t. We are safe here for the moment. All of you need to get your rest. I’ll keep an eye out for trouble,” Bethany said catching him by his shoulder. Damien sighed and rubbed his neck.  
“Alright, alright, I’ll get some rest and relieve you later,” Damien said turning back to the group. “Settle in and try not to make a mess.”  
The group spread out and found their own places to lay their heads while Damien leaned against the wall next to the door. If darkspawn did make it to the farm during the night, he could be the first line of defense and he could sense when they got too close.  
“Do you mind me asking something?” Alyssa asked as she lay down using her shield and arm as a pillow.  
“Depends on the question,” Damien responded trying to relax a little.  
“Are you scared? With everything going on, I mean. Less than two weeks ago I was a noble and you were a beggar and now, we’re two of the last Wardens in Fereldan. I have to admit, I’m scared,” Alyssa said as she closed her eyes.  
“I’ll tell you something that a friend once told me. His name was Lockey. Being afraid of everything is okay, as long as you have the courage to face it anyway,” Damien said. He remembered Lockey telling him that before he had broken into a warehouse to scrounge up some food. The guards had been far more vigilante and numerous than usual that night. Damien had been scared that he would get caught before he could get back out.  
Alyssa smiled as she fell asleep. Damien was surprised how quickly she was out. He had started to dread going to sleep. Every night the dreams of the dragon came and tortured his mind with its whispering roars. He knew he needed the sleep, he just didn’t want to close his eyes. He hoped that with more distance between him and the darkspawn, he might be able to sleep better, but he doubted it.  
As he thought, once he drifted off to sleep, the dragon came, yet it seemed oblivious to his presence, unlike before when the beast looked straight down at him chilling him to the bone. He made sure to not move, no sound, not even breathing if he could help it.  
Thunder woke him from under the dragon’s gaze. He heard a light rain falling on the roof as he stretched and stood up looking around. Everyone was still asleep except for Bethany. True to her word, she sat silently in a chair near the window keeping an eye on the outside world.  
“I wonder just what might be so interesting out there?” Damien said sitting down across from her.  
“You should be resting,” Bethany said keeping her gaze on the outside world.  
“I told you I would relieve you after I got some rest. You and your family will be traveling tomorrow, so you need to sleep too,” Damien said loosening his scarf and pulling out his pendant.  
“Alright, but I’m not too tired yet, so I’ll sit up with you, at least for a bit,” Bethany said relaxing in her chair.  
“That’s fine,” Damien said turning to the window.  
“I heard what you told your friend. Everyone seems to have a lot of respect for you. Lillian said you took command of some of the soldiers in the battle and that you were the only reason that she and Carver made it out,” Bethany said moving her chair to the other side of the table to sit next to him.  
“I never asked for this, but now everyone’s looking to me to make decisions for us. It’s a lot of pressure. I’m so worried about making mistakes. In the battle, if I had withdrawn sooner, there might be another dozen men with us at least. Maybe even more Wardens,” Damien said tapping on the table lightly with his fingers.  
“It’s easy to look back at your decisions and think of what you could have done. But everyone respects you, so you must be doing something right,” Bethany said using her arms as a pillow on the table.  
Damien smiled and exhaled. Bethany was right. Like it or not, everyone had chosen to follow him without really even discussing it. He had even started recruiting people to their cause without speaking to his companions about it. If he was being truly honest with himself, he had appointed himself the leader along with everyone else. What he wanted no longer mattered. He needed to be whatever the group and Fereldan needed.  
As he glanced back over at Bethany, he found her fast asleep. She must have been more tired than she had let on. He smirked remembering her insistence on letting his group get their rest. His fingers wrapped around his scarf and the pendant. He remembered the nights that he, Lockey, Griggs, and Heness would trade off watching over each other.   
“I couldn’t save you guys, but I’ll make sure that I take care of my new friends,” Damien said softly.  
Damien sighed and started thinking about all the things that they needed to do. Treaties from Ostagar, talk to Arl Eamon in Redcliffe, figure out who they could get help from through the treaties and recruit them, and deal with Loghain somehow. It was a long list and other than collecting the treaties he wasn’t sure where to start.  
He looked over at his comrades as Lyna, Alyssa, and Alistair tossed and turned as the dreams of the dragon racked their sleeping minds. He hoped they would be rested at the very least. Everyone would need their strength for their mission to Ostagar.  
As the eastern sky started to lighten, Damien stood silently and made his way to the door. He could get the wagon ready and inspect their equipment before the rest of the group woke up. If he managed to do that, then they could be on their way the moment everyone was awake. He considered leaving the wagon in Lothering, but if the horde starting moving north before they could get back, all their hard won equipment, the wagon, and most of their supplies would be lost. As noisy and inconvenient as it was to bring the wagon with them, he really did not see any other option. They could make camp an hour or two’s hike from Ostagar while remaining away from the horde, keeping the wagon safe. But who could he ask to stay behind to keep the wagon safe. He doubted any of his fellow wardens would and Morrigan would be needed as a guide to Ostagar. Maybe their two new members would stay with the wagon, but could he trust them? The sister was definitely hiding something and the Qunari had admitted to being a murderer. Maybe leaving Brax with them would be a good idea.  
Damien finished hitching up the horse and wagon and guided the steed out to the front of the house, but as he did, the taint in his blood burned, warning him of the approaching enemy. From what he could tell, it was not the horde, but it was a decent sized war band. Rushing back to the door, he flung it open to find the other Wardens taking up their weapons and waking the others.  
“It’s coming from the highway,” Alistair shouted pointing to the west. Damien nodded.  
“Hawkes, stay here and keep an eye on our wagon for us. Everyone else, on me,” Damien ordered sprinting back out the door. He made sure not to use his magic so everyone could keep up with him, but he knew the darkspawn were fighting someone. Whoever that was needed their help. Of all the things they had to do to end the Blight, protecting the people of Fereldan from the darkspawn was the most important of their duties.   
“Damien, up on the highway!” Lyna shouted pointing. He spotted what she saw. A squad of darkspawn, a dozen strong was bearing down on a merchant cart and two dwarves. He couldn’t wait or hold back. He needed to get between those monsters and their victims immediately.  
“Catch up as fast as you can!” Damien shouted back before launching himself forward and up with his magic. The wind knocked the hood off his head as he descended on his unsuspecting prey and slashed his dagger down a hurlock’s front, nearly cleaving the beast in half. Without a pause, Damien spun and used the momentum from his jump to kick a genlock in the head and drove his dagger into its back. An arrow from Lyna pierced another darkspawn as Damien started using his blades to block. There was simply no time to counterattack as nearly all the surviving darkspawn encroached on him. Every time he had an opening to attack, one of the beasts, two others would be attacking. Defense was his only option.  
The others arrived mere seconds later and engaged the darkspawn as well allowing Damien the opening he needed to counter attack and push the beasts back. In a large group, the darkspawn could easily overwhelm even a seasoned warrior, but when the numbers were even and the fights were one on one or one on two, the darkspawn lost their advantage and were quickly eliminated.  
Damien spun his daggers knocking the two darkspawns’ weapons aside before swiping his weapons back across his body decapitating both of his opponents at once. He looked around seeing his group finishing off the last of the darkspawn.  
“Great timing. Search the them and see if there’s anything we can use,” Damien said before turning to the two dwarves they had protected. “You two alright?”  
“Mighty timely arrival there, my friend. I’m much obliged,” the elder of the two said approaching.  
“You’re welcome, I’m just glad we could help,” Damien said extending his hand.  
“Name’s Bodhan Feddic, merchant and entrepreneur. This here is my boy, Sandal. Go on, say hello to the nice gentleman,” the dwarf said shaking Damien’s hand.  
“Hello,” Sandal said shortly. Damien smiled. The boy spoke in a way that showed he had a simplistic mind. Damien had seen others like him before, but most were seen as a disappointment to their parents. It was comforting to see a father so loving of a simple boy. The obvious affection Bodhan had for the lad endeared the dwarf to him making Damien smile broadly.  
“Hello there. My name’s Damien,” the warden responded offering his hand to Sandal as well. The boy shook it vigorously as he smiled up at Damien.  
“Road’s been might dangerous these days. Mind if I ask what brings you out here? Perhaps we’re going the same way,” Bodhan asked. Damien didn’t quite understand why, but he liked the man. The dwarf was cheerful and very kind. Even in his travels, Damien had not met many men who acted this way with strangers they had just met.  
“You’re more than welcome to join us, but I would suggest waiting here in Lothering until we return. See, I’m a Grey Warden and I’m headed to Ostagar to recover some things that were lost in the battle,” Damien explained.  
“A Grey Warden? Well, I believe there might be a little too much excitement on your path for my boy and I to handle, so for the time being at least, I will bid you farewell and good fortune,” Bodhan said politely. Damien smiled and nodded.  
“And to you my friend. I hope to see you again. On the road maybe?” Damien said taking a few silvers from his purse and placing them in Bodhan’s hand.  
“I hope so, but what’s this?” Bodhan asked.  
“To help fix your wagon. It looks like it took a bit of a beating. You can pay me back next time we see each other,” Damien said smiling and turning to leave.  
“You have my word. I’ll pay you back every copper and then some,” Bodhan shouted after him. Damien waved back at him as the group joined him heading back down the ramp of the highway.  
“Well, that certainly got the blood pumping,” Alistair said cheerfully as he wiped his face to try and clean as much of the blood off himself as he could.  
“Anyone else hungry for breakfast?” Damien asked looking back at the group.  
“Do you even have to ask?” Lyna answered. The Wardens laughed as did Morrigan and Leliana leaving Sten as the stoic silent pillar behind them.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
Damien watched as the Hawkes headed toward the highway with their small cart and mule. He had offered to buy them a larger wagon with an ox or a horse, but Leandra had told him to save their money since they would not be taking the mule and cart with them to Kirkwall.  
As the Wardens watched their hosts leave, Damien could hear Bethany’s words still echoing in his ear, soft and kind. I’m looking forward to your letters. Be sure to tell me how to get in touch with you too. He smiled as he saw her turn to look back at him and wave. Damien waved back before turning to their cart.  
“So, Ostagar?” Lyna asked as Damien checked the wheels on the wagon for any weaknesses.  
“I think so. We’ll be moving out within the hour,” Damien said pulling his hood up over his head and tying a cloak around his neck.   
Lyna stepped up to the horse and stroked its nose gently. Damien could see a longing for her home in her eyes. Unlike him, she came from a place that was close knit and supported each other. He could not even imagine the feelings of loss and loneliness that the young elf was feeling. After all, she could not have been older than 19 years at the most.  
“Can you tell me about you home? Your clan?” Damien asked. He hoped that getting her talking about her family would help her and settle her heart.  
“Was it that obvious that I was thinking of my clan?” Lyna asked continuing to stroke the horse’s soft face.  
“It just looked like you were missing home,” Damien responded leaning against the wagon.  
“I’m just worried about them. They told me they were headed north right after I left so I’m sure they are safe, but I would love to hear from them, or see them again,” Lyna said touching her forehead to the horse’s. The horse nickered rubbed his face on hers coercing a smile from her.  
“Once the Blight is beaten, and Fereldan is safe from the darkspawn, we’ll go find them. I promise,” Damien said. Lyna looked up at him.  
“Are you sure? I mean, you shouldn’t promise something like that,” Lyna protested taking a step toward him.  
“Why not? I don’t plan on staying in Fereldan after the Darkspawn threat is over. I’ll leave that to the Warden reinforcements when they arrive. I want to see the rest of Thedas. Finding your clan and meeting them I think would be a great adventure. Or at least less life threatening than our current predicament,” Damien explained laughing to himself.   
“But aren’t you going to be the new Warden Commander?” Lyna asked.  
Damien took a step back. “What are you talking about? Just because I took command of the flank in the battle doesn’t mean I’m a leader,” Damien protested raising his hands.  
“I don’t know. I’d follow you,” Alyssa stated stepping out from the other side of the wagon. She had apparently been listening to the whole conversation. Alistair stepped out as well with his arms crossed. He had a rather sheepish look on his face.  
“To be perfectly honest, I’d rather you took charge too. I might be the senior Warden of our group, but I don’t have any idea of what to do,” Alistair confessed.  
“And you think I do?” Damien exclaimed. “I’ve been a Warden for less than two weeks. I don’t even understand why we are needed other than being able to survive the taint.”  
“We trust you with our lives. You protected everyone in the Wilds before the Joining, took command in the battle, and added more allies to our cause since we arrived here. Whether you want to be or not, we all see you as our leader,” Alyssa snapped.  
“It’s true. We trust you and so did Lillian and Carver. As of right now, I say we vote on who the new Commander of the Grey is,” Lyna said leaning against the wagon.  
“I don’t think we really have to vote,” Alyssa stated looking over at Alistair.  
“It’s obviously going to be Damien. So, what are your orders, Commander?” Alistair asked saluting with his fist over his heart.   
Damien pinched the bridge of his nose before sighing and looking around at his companions. “If this is what all of you think is best, then fine,” He said turning back to Lyna. “But when the threat is over, I’m still keeping my promise. I don’t want to stay in Fereldan forever. There are so many adventures to have that won’t end in death and I want to have a few under my belt when the Calling comes,” Damien said.  
“The Calling?” Alyssa asked. Damien looked over at the girl. True, Duncan had not mentioned anything to them as a group but he had heard some of the Wardens in cam p talking about it.  
“The Calling is the sign that a Warden’s life is coming to an end,” Damien said scratching his head through his hood.  
“What?” Alyssa exclaimed taking a step forward.  
“Where’d you hear about that?” Lyna asked.  
“I heard a few older Wardens talking about it in camp. Apparently once the Joining is complete, a warden only has maybe thirty years left to live. We’ve mastered the taint but it is still poisoning us. Once a Warden hears their Calling, they can either go to the Deep Roads to die in battle or they turn into a ghoul,” Damien explained.  
“He’s right,” Alistair added. Everyone turned to face him. Damien was actually happy to have the attention off of him again.  
“You knew about all this and didn’t tell any of us?” Lyna exclaimed.  
“I assumed Duncan would tell you,” Alistair responded.  
“Enough!” Damien snapped. “I’m sure Duncan planned to tell us everything after the battle, but he didn’t. Deal with it! All three of you decided that I was the next Commander so here are my orders. This matter is closed. Gather everyone up and let’s move out,” Damien ordered, turning and climbing up into the driver’s seat. He just wanted this useless argument to end. They needed to move or they would not reach Ostagar before dark.  
“Yes Commander,” Lyna responded. Damien was slightly surprised by the genuine respect he heard in her voice.  
“Go round up everyone else. I want Lyna and Morrigan on point. Morrigan to lead us and Lyna to cover her. Sten and Alistair are rear guard with Alyssa and Brax on the right flank, Leliana on the left. I’ll drive the wagon for now,” Damien said taking hold of the horse’s reins. They needed to get moving. His blood warned him of the darkness constantly growing stronger in the south.  
000  
Damien stopped the wagon in a small clearing a few miles from Ostagar. The horse needed the rest and if they came any closer, the darkspawn might notice them. He certainly was feeling the taint of the massive horde and he knew the others were too.  
“Sten, Leliana, and Brax will stay and guard the wagon. Morrigan, myself and the others will continue on to the ruins,” Damien said climbing down from the driver’s seat.  
“Why can’t we come with you?” Leliana asked.  
“We need people who don’t have the taint to stay with the wagon. Hopefully, any war bands near here will sense me and follow instead of coming after you and the wagon,” Damien explained. “Sten, you’re a soldier. You know the value of defending your supply lines.”  
Damien knew he was assuming but he could see the war hardened spirit of a soldier in the qunari’s eyes. He had seen that look in the eyes of many soldiers and Wardens at Ostagar.  
Sten nodded, his face still emotionless and cold as stone. Damien was right. The qunari was a soldier… but then why would he have killed that family? He’d have to ask about that later.  
“I suppose that makes sense, but you did bring us with you to help, right?” Leliana asked.  
“Of course, and that’s what you’re doing by taking care of our supplies and making sure we have a camp to return to,” Damien responded.  
“We’re ready when you are commander,” Lyna said removing her cloak. Damien nodded. Lyna was use to hunting and moving without sound through the woods. That would certainly help them get to Ostagar undetected.  
“Here, these might help,” Leliana said handing Damien a small flat pouch. Opening the flap on the front, he found ten well-crafted and sharp throwing knives. A truly valuable set, but how did she know if he could throw them? Most of his practice with throwing blades was with a heavy knife at prey in the woods; hardly good enough training to be able to effectively use the throwing knives. Although… he could use his magic to guide and boost the knives speed. Maybe they would come in handy.  
“Thanks. Keep an eye out. Brax will be able to smell any Darkspawn approaching before they get here. We should be back in a few hours,” Damien said strapping the throwing knives to his lower back. Leliana tightened the straps for him and gave him an encouraging pat on the back.  
Damien nodded and lifted his scarf up over his nose and mouth and pulled his hood a little lower. “Alright, let’s get moving,” Damien said waving everyone on. “Morrigan, take point. You know these woods. Lyna, keep to the left flank. Alyssa and Alistair will defend Morrigan if we are engaged. I’ll take the right flank. Stay within shouting distance.”  
As the group moved through the trees and brush, Damien kept a close eye on his comrades. It was difficult moving through the trees with little or no sound, but keeping an eye on the others was more important. He made sure to keep his ears open and a close monitor on the taint in his blood. He knew if he got too distracted by what he could see and hear, he might miss something and that could be fatal.  
After an hour, they arrived at the outskirts of the ruined camp. Damien and Lyna rejoined the group as they hid in the brush. Damien could see several small groups of darkspawn moving through what remained of the destroyed tents and shelters.  
“This seems to be a delicate situation,” Morrigan whispered pointing to several other darkspawn that looked to be fighting among each other.  
“I’m okay with them fighting each other. As long as they don’t notice us, we’ll be good,” Damien responded drawing one of his daggers.  
“What’s the plan?” Lyna asked.  
“I think our best chance is to sneak in, grab the treaties, and sneak out before the Blighters even know we’re here. So, you and me Lyna. Up for it?” Damien asked. The elf smiled deviously and drew an arrow from her quiver.  
“Absolutely,” she responded.  
“So what are we supposed to do? Knit a lovely hat for when you return?” Alistair asked.  
“Stay hidden. I doubt getting out will be as easy as getting in. We’ll need you three to cover us when we come back,” Damien said keeping his eyes on the scene of devastation before him.  
“Are you two sure you’ll make it to the treaties without being seen?” Alyssa asked.  
“If anything does see us, Lyna will put an arrow in its eye,” Damien said smirking back at the girl. Lyna smiled and pat Alyssa on the shoulder.  
“Don’t worry Alyssa, we’ll be back before you know it,” Lyna said smiling.  
Damien nodded and slipped into the camp with Lyna right behind him. He made sure to run only on the balls of his feet. His eyes kept a close watch on the area in front of him to ensure he did not step on anything that would give him away. With the dagger in his right hand, he pulled a throwing blade from the pack.  
“See something?” Lyna asked keeping pace with him just as silently. She was certainly a deadly hunter. Damien felt more comfortable having her with him than trying to do this mission alone. As vigilant as he was, it was possible for him to miss something.  
“Small group up ahead. I’ll charge. You take the two on the right. I’ll take the three on the left,” Damien said taking a slow breath.  
“Got it,” Lyna answered.  
Damien nodded and used his magic to charge forward and hurled his throwing knife at the genlock on the far left. He used his magic to keep the blade flying straight until if buried itself deep in the genlock’s head. As he moved, an arrow whizzed past his head and ripped into the hurlock on the far right. When he was only two steps short of the group, a second arrow put a third darkspawn down silently. Drawing his second blade, he spun and separated the last two darkspawns’ heads from their shoulder. The whole attack was over with hardly any sound in less than three seconds.  
“Well, that was fun,” Damien said pulling his throwing knife from his first victim’s head. Wiping his blades off quickly, he waved for Lyna to follow him again.  
They made it to what remained of the King’s tent where a large chest sat in the middle partially covered by the charred tarp that once stood tall. Damien sighed and knelt in front of the chest to examine the lock. He had picked his fair share of bolt locks, pad locks, and puzzle locks before but this one was a piece of work. It would take him at least thirty minutes to do it right. Although, it appeared that the hinges had been damaged. It would be loud, but he could break them and take everything. He could sort everything out later.  
“Cover me, this is going to be a little noisy,” Damien said drawing one of his daggers. Lyna notched an arrow and stood at Damien’s back. He knew she would not let anything sneak up on them and if they got into trouble, he would shout for Morrigan, Alistair, and Alyssa. They could be at his side in less than a minute.  
Damien dug the tip of his dagger into the wood around the hinges and dug down before prying the metal pieces up. From his experience as a thief, he always wanted to leave the least amount of proof that he had been there, but this was different. It didn’t matter if the darkspawn found out later that he had been there. All that mattered was recovering the treaties. With a loud snap and a groan, the first hinge gave and broke away from the chest. Without any delay, Damien set to work on the next one. He could feel the darkspawn coming closer. The sound must have alerted them.  
“Can you feel that?” Lyna asked from behind him.  
“Yes, we’ve got a lot of darkspawn closing in,” Damien said continuing with his work on the hinge. “A couple more seconds and I’ll be done.” The second hinge breaking was much louder than the first and his blood screamed in his veins, sending cold shivers through his whole body. The darkspawn were on the attack and headed for them.  
He threw open the lid and picked up everything in the chest. Papers, two boxes, and to Damien’s surprise, a beautiful long sword with runes engraved in the blade and hilt. He could feel the power coming from the blade. It was strong and pure magic, a major difference from the darkspawn. He wondered if it would have a larger affect against the darkspawn than against other beings. But he was not sure. He’d ask Morrigan about it when he could.  
“We have to go, Damien,” Lyna said as Damien tucked the chest’s contents under each arm and stood.  
“Let’s move,” he ordered taking off. He knew he could run with the objects under his arms, but he had to be careful not to leave Lyna in the dust. But as they approached where the others were, Damien could see them fighting a group of darkspawn.  
“Damned blighters found them,” Damien cursed. He leapt up and used his magic to throw his feet into the back of one of the darkspawn before flipping back and landing gently. With his arms occupied, he would have to rely on his team to do the fighting.  
“So, how was your day?” Alistair joked as he killed the spawn Damien had knocked down.  
“Oh, you know, breaking in to things, recovering papers, running from darkspawn, the usual,” Damien responded kicking a genlock back allowing Alistair to finish it off.  
“Our way back is cut off,” Morrigan reported pointing to the woods where three hurlocks were approaching. Damien could sense several more in the trees beside those appearing before them.  
“The path down to the battle field. We’ll head down there and escape into the trees,” Damien said glancing over at the embankment where they had made their last stand only a few days earlier.  
“And if they have archers on the bridge?” Lyna asked using her bow like a club and smashing a hurlock’s face in.  
“Morrigan and you can cover us while Alyssa and Alistair use their shields to defend you two,” Damien responded knocking a genlock to the ground before crushing the beast’s throat with his knee. “Move!”  
The group sprinted for the embankment with Alistair using his shield to clear them a path. Damien was starting to feel heavier as he kept moving. His magic must not have completely recovered yet. If he kept using it, it might cause him to collapse.  
“Use the slope and slide down. It’s faster!” Damien shouted as he slid down the embankment feet first. He’d figure out what to do once they were on the field below if there was anything that needed to change.  
“No, my sword!” Alistair shouted. Damien turned just in time to see the blade tumbling over the side of the path as Alistair tried to catch it. Damien looked down at the rune engraved blade under his arm. Something about the weapon told him it was meant for Alistair, but could that really be true? If so, then why?  
Damien stopped himself at the bottom of the path and leapt out of the way allowing the others to arrive without a pile up. Damien immediately jumped to Alistair’s.  
“Take the sword. It’s powerful and really strong,” Damien said turning so Alistair could see the hilt. For a moment, it looked like Alistair was hesitant to even look at the blade, let alone take it up. “Take it!” Damien ordered.  
“Right!” Alistair said grasping the grip and pulling out from under Damien’s arm. Damien smiled and nodded. Maybe now he could see just what the blade was capable of.  
Yet, as he turned to head toward the woods, he spotted an ogre dead in the field with two blades sticking out of its chest. The color of the blades and the pattern on the hilts screamed one thing from his memory, one name; Duncan. Those were Duncan’s blades. He must have killed the ogre before dying.  
“Alyssa, Morrigan, take these and head for the tree now. Lyna, cover me, Alistair, protect Lyna,” Damien barked as he handed the papers and boxes to the girls and sprinted for the ogre’s corpse. He knew he was being stupidly sentimental but he knew that the others would understand his desire to have their old commander’s blades with them. It would be like having a piece of him with them. He used what little magic he had left to help him rip the blades out of the corpse quickly before heading toward the trees as well.   
“Fall back! Morrigan, set as much of that field on fire as you can. Block them from coming after us,” Damien shouted again.  
“Tis easy enough,” Morrigan answered waving her hand causing a wall of fire to erupt from the ground separating the group from their pursuers. “Why risk your life for such trinkets? They are merely weapons.”  
“No, they’re not,” Damien answered briefly. He doubted Morrigan would ever understand what it meant to truly respect someone and miss them with every fiber of her being. He hoped that someday she might.  
Damien kept them moving toward their temporary camp. They would make it back before sunset and could be back in Lothering by midnight, and they could finally leave the nightmare of Ostagar behind them. They needed to look to the future and the challenges that awaited them.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  
The wagon rumbled into Lothering. Damien was snoozing in the back using the tent rolls for a mattress. Lyna sat on the back gate letting her feet dangle and keeping an eye on the road. Alistair was driving the wagon with Leliana next to him in the seat while Sten walked next to the cart. Alyssa and Morrigan both sat further in the wagon on some of their boxes of supplies.  
“Those weapons… you said they were not just weapons,” Morrigan said pointing to the long sword and dagger laying next to Damien.  
Damien’s hand fell to them as he picked up the dagger and raised it up over his head. “These were Duncan’s. The late Commander of the Grey. The man that brought us all together,” Damien answered pressing his forehead to the flat of the blade.  
“I see. I can understand that I suppose,” Morrigan replied. She seemed more irritated by the answer then placated but maybe that was just the way she was.  
Damien sighed and lay back, closing his eyes and trying to rest. With the dragon constantly haunting his dreams, Damien found that short snoozing actually made him feel slightly more rested.  
“So, what’s the plan?” Lyna asked.  
“I know you can feel it. The plan is to evacuate Lothering as fast as possible. Then we are headed for Denerim. I’ve got a friend there that can help us. If his life is still the same as it was a while ago, he’ll jump at the chance to come with us,” Damien answered without opening his eyes.  
“Why’s that?” Alyssa asked.  
“Because he’s a thief like me and a damned good fighter. He could probably kick my arse,” Damien admitted.  
“Are you kidding? You could take everyone of us,” Alyssa said crossing her arms.  
“Maybe one at a time with time to rest in between, but I need to be a lot better if I’m going to measure up. Duncan took down an ogre alone. I tried and nearly got killed and the damn thing survived. We need all the help we can get as well as time and a place to train,” Damien said.  
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Alistair said from the driver seat.  
“Leliana, the revered mother trusts you, so if you will go to her and tell her what’s going on, that should get the evacuation started. Sten, Alistair and I will help build barricades on the road to slow the darkspawn down. Lyna, Alyssa, and Morrigan help direct refugees onto the highway and keep them moving,” Damien said hoping out of the wagon as they pulled up in front of the Chantry.  
“I’ll join you on the highway soon,” Leliana said jumping down and jogging toward the chantry.  
Damien nodded and waved for Sten and Alistair to follow him. As long as the overturned wagons and carts that the bandits had used were still there, they could build traps to slow the darkspawn down. Although, no matter how much they managed to slow the horde down, there would be people left behind. He had a hard time justifying his actions of try to save the villagers. Many of them would die no matter what he did and many had already evacuated. But still, he had to do something.  
The trio started moving the debris of the bandits’ crimes and building the best barricade they could. They positioned pointed staves along the edge of the highway and erected palisades as a first line of defense.  
“Are you the Warden?” a templar asked approaching with a small squad of men. Damien turned to face them and put a hand on Alistair to keep him from stepping forward. Only the Hawkes and members of his party knew that more than one Warden survived and he wanted to keep it that way for now.  
“That’s right, Warden Damien,” the youth answered offering a salute with his fist over his heart.  
“We’re here to help defend the village. What do you need from us?” the templar responded. Damien smiled. Even though he was branded a traitor, these men knew he was in the right at least in this situation, either that or they were looking out for themselves and they didn’t give a damn who lead them. But, he liked the first thought better.  
“Any traps you can put together. We need to cover the highway in them,” Damien said breaking a few bottles and placing the glass with the shards pointed up. It wasn’t much but it was something.  
As they worked, more and more people joined them until they had nearly a mile of traps and a sturdy barricade against the darkspawn. Damien and Alistair looked at each other as their blood told them both the same thing. The darkspawn were coming and they weren’t too far away.  
“Are the civilians evacuated?” Damien asked one of the Templars.  
“Not all of them. There are some that are refusing to leave,” the man responded.  
“Idiot Blighters!” Damien cursed slamming his fist into a column of the highway archway. “What are they thinking? This barricade won’t hold for long and we are leaving too. Go tell them that and get them moving.”  
Damien signaled for everyone to fall back and made their way down to ramp and back through the village. Alyssa, Lyna, and Morrigan met them with the wagon on the far of the village and immediately headed out. The sun had nearly set below the western hills as Damien looked back as the dust and smoke of the approaching horde could be seen in the dimming light.  
000  
The night sky shimmered with stars as Damien kept watch over the path. Their party had made camp at the base of a cliff a little way off the road. It was not a well-hidden camp site but it was secure; only one way in or out making it easier to defend.  
“I brought you some food,” Leliana said coming and sitting down next to him.  
“I appreciate it.” Damien accepted the food, leaning back against a tree. He could hear everyone talking back in camp, but he tried to tune them out and keep his mind on the road and the taint in his blood.  
“You are different from everyone else here, aren’t you?” Leliana said as Damien ate.  
“What do you mean?”  
“You are comfortable on the road. You must have traveled a great deal in your life,” Leliana explained. Damien sighed and took another bite of his food.  
“Yes, I did. I’m sure you’ve seen a lot too,” Damien said still keeping his eyes on the road.  
“I have. I traveled as a minstrel in Orlais,” Leliana replied.  
Damien turned to her raising an eyebrow. He had heard stories about minstrels in Orlais being spies and assassins and that would certainly explain the Chantry sister’s skill with a blade, but then what was she doing in Fereldan?  
“So, how did someone like you end up here?” Damien asked.  
“What do you mean someone like me?” she responded. Damien smirked and leaned his head back against his tree. How was he going to put this? He needed more information about this young woman if he was going to trust her to have his back in combat. Maybe flattery would help get her to talk.  
“You know, beautiful girl with the ability to fight. Never thought we’d find someone like you in a chantry,” Damien replied. His cheeks started to turn a little red. He had not spoken like that to a girl in a long time. It felt weird.  
“And there are never any beautiful women in the cloister? Many of my fellow sisters were quite beautiful. Forbidden fruit is all the sweeter, no?” Leliana responded. Damien bit the inside of his cheek. She avoided the question so well, he almost didn’t catch the redirect. She was very good.   
“We all have secrets, Leliana. Don’t be so guarded with yours. It hard to trust you,” Damien stated frankly. The statement appeared to stun Leliana as Damien finished his food and handed her the bowl back.  
“How does someone earn your trust?” Leliana asked, accepting the bowl.  
“That’s up to you, but I know you have a dangerous secret,” Damien answered.  
“What makes you think that?” Leliana asked. Damien could hear the nervousness in her voice. Her fear had cracked the hard, cheerful shell she kept around her.  
“Someone with your fighting skill doesn’t hide in a chantry on a whim. That’s a sanctuary from whatever storm is chasing you. I know because I’ve been there too,” Damien responded standing slowly. He could see a wagon pulling on to the trail. He could not make out who it was but they did not look like much of a threat.  
“What is it?” Leliana asked.  
“Stay here and keep watch until I get back,” Damien said before slipping into the trees. He moved with hardly any sound as he used fallen trees and boulders to run on, keeping away from the leaves and limbs on the ground that would have announced his presence.  
When he reached the path, Damien could see the wagon and the two people in the seat. He smiled and stepped out with his hand raised. The horse and wagon stopped quickly allowing Damien to catch the horse’s reins.  
“Don’t you know not to approach a camp in the dark of night?” Damien said stroking the horse’s nose. “What are you doing here Bodahn?” Damien asked.  
The dwarf let out a hardy laugh. “I just happened to pass by and saw your fire, figured we could join up with you. Safety in numbers, right?”  
Damien smiled. He liked the man. He might be a merchant, but the dwarf had character. “Alright, I don’t see a problem with that,” Damien said smiling.  
“Excellent, and as a thank you, I’ll give you a discount on my wears,” Bodahn said smiling broadly.  
“Works for me,” Damien replied waving for the wagon to follow him into the camp.  
000  
Damien started awake. The dragon had not been the cause this time, but an old memory that had surfaced. The dungeon with the chains and the chilling cold bite of the winter air had slinked back into his thoughts. His wrists still bore the scars from the cold irons around them. He rubbed them absent mindedly in his sleeping roll.  
“Nightmares again?” Alistair asked from outside. Damien didn’t know how to answer. Could they still have regular nightmares even with the taint in their blood? Surely, they could. Maybe they could even have normal dreams too.  
“Yeah, I guess,” Damien groaned as he sat up in bed. He adjusted his scarf up over his nose and pulled his hood up over his head. He slowly stood, slipped on his armor, and stepped out of his tent trying his best to not fall over or show the fear from his dream that held his spine in an icy grip.  
Everyone looked to be awake already and gathered around the fire for some breakfast. The sun had not breached the horizon yet, but the brilliant orange light had already started to paint over the night sky. Lyna looked like she had just come off of her turn on watch since she could barely keep her eyes open and Sten was absent from the group completely. He must have been on watch.  
“That’s strange because for the first time since the joining, I didn’t dream about that,” Alyssa said as she tied her hair up in a ponytail.  
The group turned to look at Damien as he rubbed the back of his neck, instinctively pulling the scarf a little higher. He didn’t like being the center of attention. It made him nervous, like everyone was waiting to catch him doing something he was not supposed to do, then back to those chilling chains and dank dungeons.  
“Must have been in a deeper sleep,” Damien replied. It was the only believable thing he could think of. He just couldn’t tell them about that experience. They would never look at him like an equal again. All they would see was a damaged and scared little boy with scars rather than a Warden. Of course, he was not quite sure if he saw himself as a Warden yet. He still felt like the thief that broke into the kitchen rather than the new Warden Commander.  
“Must have been,” Alistair responded handing Damien some bread and apple butter.  
“Thanks,” Damien replied accepting the food and heading up toward the lookout post. He simply couldn’t be around the group while he was feeling like this with those cold irons still jingling in his ears like the bells of the Fade.  
As he reached the top of the small hill, he found Sten standing with his sword on his shoulder. His armor did not fit him quite right, but the qunari looked to be very relieved to be wearing something other than cloth. The sword showed obvious signs of battle. Knicks and scratches marred the blade and hilt from tip to grip. Damien wanted to replace it with a better weapon as soon as possible.  
“Go get some breakfast, big guy. I’ll take over for now. Let the others know when you get back to break camp and be ready to move out as quickly as possible,” Damien said patting the warrior on the shoulder and leaning back against the tree.  
“That is unnecessary. I am able to continue my watch,” Sten responded.  
“Consider it an order then. Get something to eat and inform the others that we are to break camp immediately. The sun will be up soon and I want to move out before it’s too high,” Damien said planting himself on the hill and gluing his eyes to the road.  
“Of course,” Sten responded.  
The tone made Damien sigh. Sten could not have been more irritated if he tried. He must not have had very much confidence in Damien’s abilities as a Warden. But, come to think of it, neither did Damien.  
Damien started thinking about everything that had happened to him in the past couple weeks as he munched on his breakfast. How did he go from being a stealthy thief to the Warden Commander of the Grey? He used to hide his face and work in the shadows to get what he needed, but now he had revealed not only what he looked like to Loghain’s troops and threatened the Teryn, but had assumed the leadership role in a band of misfits and fugitives.  
Finishing off his breakfast, Damien touched the pendant under his tunic. If I have to be out in front to keep everyone else safe, then so be it. I won’t let anyone else I care about die. Heness, Lockey, Griggs, Daveth, Duncan, I promise you all; I won’t repeat the same mistakes I made with you. If he had to, he would remain in full view for the enemy to see and know. It would keep the other Wardens safe even if it painted a target on his back. He had confidence in his own abilities to evade pursuers but he knew most of his new comrades did not.  
Of course, promising not to let anyone else die was an empty promise since he had not done much to prove himself to the group. The fact that they were willing to follow him right now had nothing to do with his ability as a leader and everything to do with his ability as a fighter. True, he could think rationally in combat but was that enough? Could he really be in command? He had always done what needed to be done on his own or with very little help. He never had to rely on anyone before joining the Wardens. Now, without help, Fereldan was doomed under the shadow of the Blight, held down by the idiotic decisions of a once great hero.  
Damien sighed. Front and center it is then. If it keeps everyone else safe, then I’ll be the diversion. But once this mess is done, I’ll turn everything over and be on my merry way, Damien told himself. He stood and wiped the crumbs off his armor and looked back at the camp. Steam rose from the fire pit as Alistair doused the flames. Everyone else broke down their tents and loaded them into the wagon quickly.  
Looking back to the road, Damien adjusted his daggers on his back and the pack of throwing knives below them. He pulled the scarf up over his nose and slid down the slope to the path below.  
“Everyone loaded up?” Damien shouted.  
“All set!” Alyssa shouted back. Damien looked around the group as Alistair and Lyna climbed up into the driver’s seat of the wagon. Morrigan was sitting on the back step of Bodahn’s cart while Leliana, Sten, and Alyssa had apparently decided to walk, at least for now. Unexpected from the two girls to say the least, but completely expected form the stoic Sten.  
“Move out!” Damien ordered. He would protect them, even if he had to die to do it. As long as he lived, no more of his friends would die.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15  
The troop reached Denerim three days after leaving Lothering. The trip had exhausted most of their food supplies as well as caused quite a bit of wear and tear on the wagon. The hills surrounding the massive city appeared to dance as the wind rustled the trees and carried their leaves up into the sky.  
Seeing the city from above brought back some memories. It must have been three or four years since he had been back to the city. Though he had made quite a bit of money being a pickpocket in the marketplace. He even made a few donations to some of the elves in the Alienage and the Chantry. He even managed to make a few friends among the elves. In fact, one such friend was why they were there.  
“So, Damien, how are we going to get past the guards at the gate?” Alyssa asked pointing to a large company of troops at the front gate.  
“The front gate isn’t the only entrance to the city. There’s a couple dozen small entrances that are never very well guarded. Lyna, Sten, and myself will go to a different entrance and collect the recruit I’m here for, but I want the rest of you to go to the marketplace and resupply. Be ready for a hike. We need to head for the Circle Tower after this. If we need help in the magic department, having their knowledge on our side would help us greatly,” Damien said lifting his scarf over his nose and pulling his hood down. He had snuck into the city before in almost the same way several years earlier.  
“Alright, where do you want to meet up?” Morrigan asked.  
“In the marketplace, out in front of Wade’s Smithy,” Damien answered waving for Sten and Lyna to follow him down a small narrow path to the left of the main road.  
“Why would you want me along when the objective is stealth?” Sten asked as he stomped along the path. Damien chuckled as he looked back at the large qunari.  
“Honestly buddy, I was worried that you’d attract too much attention at the main gate. That’s all,” Damien said slipping down a slope toward the walls of the city.  
The narrow deer path had not been walked in some time, but Damien remembered the view of the city and used that as his guide along the path. Even through the brush and trees, the city walls were still easily visible with its cold, gray stone against the dark leaves and limbs.  
Damien tilted his head back and smelled the scent of the forest on the air. There was something nostalgic about the aroma of the leaves and trees that rode the gentle breezes.  
He could see the side entrance to the city and lucky for them, there was only one guard. The man looked so bored sitting there alone. Maybe they could use that.  
“Let’s try just asking to get in first, and we’ll go from there,” Damien suggested leading his two companions out of the trees and toward the small doorway and guard.  
“Should we not simply knock him unconscious and enter?” Sten asked.  
“As stylish and easy as that sounds, I think we’ll see if we can barter our way in,” Damien said patting the small purse of coins on his belt.  
“Are all humans greedy?” Lyna asked keeping close to Damien’s side.  
“Most of them, but maybe there could be another way too. Let’s just see what happens,” Damien responded.  
The guard turned to face the trio as they approached him. Damien smiled seeing the man lazily raising his weapon.  
“Are you three more of Arl Howe’s mercenaries?” the guard asked.  
So, that’s why he is being lazy at his job. Howe must be moving allies into the city. Could he be in league with Loghain? And if he is, that means the attack on Highever and the betrayal at Ostagar are somehow connected. What other plans did they have in the works?  
“What gives you the right to ask?” Damien snapped, taking hold of the grip of his dagger. He hoped his reaction to the question would scare the man into letting them pass without having to give him a copper.  
“Well, I just… you three looked like… oh never mind. Just go in,” the guard stammered. Damien smirked and released his hold on his dagger. He passed the guard and pushed the door open revealing the narrow streets of the city.  
Damien lead Lyna and Sten down the main road toward the Alienage. The streets remained still, like they were in mourning for the death of their king. The youth hated seeing the city like this. He remembered these very streets being so full of life and people, bustling and happy with plenty of coin in their pockets. He never took from the people who looked like they needed it. Only from the wealthy nobles that could obviously afford to ‘lose’ some coin.  
“Damien, where is your friend and who is he?” Lyna asked keeping close to his side.  
“His name is Soris and he lives in the Alienage,” Damien answered.  
“Alienage?” Lyna asked. Damien sighed and looked around. Lyna had only just been introduced to human society. How was he going to explain the brutality and depravity of humans?  
“It’s a slum that the elves are forced to live in,” Damien answered without looking back at his friend.  
“So, it’s true. Humans hate elves,” Lyna said lowering her head.  
“Not all of us,” Damien replied with a quick glance back. The young elf looked like she had just had her heart ripped from her chest. Damien wanted to take his description back and convince her humans weren’t all bad.  
Damien could see several patrols roaming the streets. The silver armor gave the troops away as if they were holding up banners saying ‘avoid us.’ It did not matter whether they were loyal to Loghain or not. As far as anyone in Denerim knew, Wardens were the enemy. He doubted anyone in the capital denied what Loghain told them. From what he heard in Lothering, Damien knew that if anyone found out he or anyone with him was a Warden, their entire group would be as good as dead.  
“Down the alley, quick,” Damien said pulling Lyna between the buildings with Sten right behind them.  
“Why are we hiding?” Sten asked.  
“Because in this situation, stealth is a better strategy than brute force,” Damien replied. “Besides, I would rather not kill guards if we don’t have to.”  
“What is your plan? To allow your enemies to live?” Sten snapped.  
“How about you go meet the others in the marketplace. I doubt you would be very good trying to run across rooftops,” Damien said running up the wall and grabbing hold of a window sill. “Ready Lyna?”  
“I’m with you,” the elf said starting to clamber up the side of the building. Damien heard Sten grunt as he turned to walk away. As good of a fighter as the qunari was, his attitude toward the way Damien operated made the young commander wish he had left the man in that cage sometimes. Although, if they got into a big fight, Sten would be beyond helpful.  
As Damien and Lyna clambered across the rooftops, Damien made sure to keep his hood low. Even if the guards weren’t looking for him and his companions, discovery was still a possibility. He had no doubt his description had been circulated to the guards.  
“Hey, are you okay?” Damien asked as they leapt to the next roof.  
“I… I just… Pol told us about the elves in human cities, but to hear you call where they live a slum… I guess it hit a little too close to home,” Lyna answered.  
“I’m sorry. I know it probably doesn’t mean much, but I think the way elves in general are treated is barbaric,” Damien said as he ground his teeth. “But I doubt any of us can change that.”  
“Shemlen are so… stubborn,” Lyna responded.  
Damien nodded. She was right. The elves had a lot of skills to offer. Crafts that put many human and dwarven craftsmen to shame. On top of that, the elves were a kind and giving people, if no one provoked them.  
“The Alienage is up ahead. Just over that wall,” Damien said taking a running jump and catching the ledge of the battlements. He turned and reached out catching Lyna’s hand as she jumped the gap. He used the momentum of her jump to swing her up onto the walkway before flipping himself up after her.  
“What’s that smell?” Lyna asked waving her hand in front of her nose.  
Damien didn’t give an answer. He knew that smell and if they didn’t hurry, they might be too late to do anything about it. He took off at a dead sprint along the walkway and leapt a small gap that he knew would be no problem for Lyna to make. She would just have to follow his path. He couldn’t afford to lose even a second.  
As the youth dropped to the ground in the middle of the main square, Damien’s eyes watered as he looked around. Guards were dragging people out of their homes and anyone that resisted was cut down or tortured.  
“Back off!” Damien roared as a guard descended on a young child. His dagger flashed forward blocking the guard’s strike followed quickly by the youth’s knee slamming into the man’s groin. True, most would find that tactic cowardly or cheap, but in a fight where protecting someone’s life was the goal, anything went.  
He sheathed his dagger and tackled another guard who was about to set fire to a house, sending the torch the man was using into a puddle.  
“How dare you interrupt a purge you, knife-eared bastard!” the guard shouted scrambling to his feet. Keeping his scarf up over his nose and mouth, Damien threw back his hood revealing his ears.  
“I’m human, you racist prick!” Damien roared drawing his dagger again and slamming the flat of the blade against the man’s head. “Leave or you’ll answer to me and my men.” He couldn’t believe what he had just said. If this guy asked who he was, what was he going to say? Saying he was the Warden Commander would only invite more torture for the elves.  
Think, damn it, think. There must be someone these guys fear that I can pretend to be. Damien raked his brain. It had been too long since he had been in the city. Only a few people knew of him back then… although… That might work.  
“You and what army?” the guard spouted as nearly an entire company joined him.  
“I’m sure you men have heard of the Dark Wolf,” Damien said drawing both his daggers. He could feel Lyna approaching. Perfect timing. The elf landing right next to him with her bow leveled and an arrow notched.  
“Dark Wolf? But no one has seen him in years,” a guard said taking a step back.  
“That’s because I was busy elsewhere. Denerim was just the start for me. Now, be good little dogs and run back to your masters with your tails between your legs,” Damien roared, taking a threatening step forward.  
The guards hesitated but one shot from Lyna, burying the arrow in the ground right between the captain’s legs cemented the idea of retreat in their heads. Damien nodded to Lyna before replacing the hood on his head.  
“So this is why you left me back there. Just had to be the hero, huh?” Lyna said strolling over to collect her arrow.  
“Come on, Lyna. If I hadn’t gotten here when I did, there would have been more casualties,” Damien responded.  
“And if I hadn’t gotten here when I did, one of them might have been you,” Lyna retorted. “I know you are new to the job, but you are our commander.”  
Damien nodded and sheathed his daggers. He could feel eyes on him from almost every direction. The whole Alienage must have been looking at them. They might have demonstrated their willingness to protect the residents, but that did not mean they had won their trust. Out of the corner of his eye, Damien spotted an elder approaching him. Even though he had only met the old elf once before, there was no mistaking the community’s elder.  
“Valendrian, are you alright?” Damien asked turning to face the elder.  
“I am fine, but, if I may, who are you?” Valendrian asked. Damien chuckled to himself and nodded. He had not expected to be remembered by anyone but his old friend, at least not here in the Alienage. He had only met a few of the residents once and that was a long time ago.  
“Forgive me,” Damien answered pulling the scarf away from his face. “I’m Damien, an old friend of Soris.”  
The elder’s eyes turned sad at the mention of Damien’s old friend. Could something have happened to him? If so, then what? And what was he going to do now?  
“Soris was arrested a few days ago and taken to Fort Drakkon,” Valendrian stated.  
“Arrested? For what? They don’t take petty thieves to Fort Drakkon without a good reason,” Damien argued. He could still hear the chains of that horrific dungeon and the echoing screams of the torture victims.  
“It wasn’t theft. Soris left that life behind when he got engaged,” Valendrian responded. Damien lowered his eyes. Soris really gave it up. Must have been some girl.  
“How did you know my fiancé?” a young woman asked from the crowd. Damien turned to face the voice and spotted her with tears in her eyes. She was rather plain but there was sincere worry in her voice for Soris. She must have loved him dearly.  
“When I first came to this city a long time ago, he showed me around and taught me a few tricks to surviving here. He was one of the best men I’ve ever known and a good and loyal friend,” Damien answered.  
“Then couldn’t you rescue him?” the woman begged.  
“Valora, calm yourself. It’s not your fault,” Valendrian said comfortingly.  
“What do you mean, it’s not her fault? What happened to get him arrested?” Damien asked.  
“The arl’s son burst in on his and Nelaros’ wedding. They took the brides and bride’s maids hostage and back to the Arl’s palace. Soris and Nelaros went to save them, and killed the Arl’s son in the process. Nelaros was killed too and when the guards came looking for the one responsible, Soris gave himself up,” Valendrain explained.  
“So, that’s why the guards were here. This was punishment. Ass holes,” Damien said spitting at the footprints left behind by the guards. “Damn it. I was hoping Soris was still around to help me out with something, but if he’s gone…” Damien turned to leave but Lyna grabbed his arm.  
“There has to be someone else who’s just as talented as Soris was right? Someone he sparred with or who had the same teacher,” Lyna said looking up at him. Damien rubbed his forehead. And turned back to the elder.  
“What about the Tabris family? Cyrion’s wife was Soris’ teacher right? Didn’t they have a child too?” Damien asked.  
“And who are you to ask for our children?” an elf shouted. Damien looked over at the man. His face was kind and care-worn. The redness around the man’s eyes told Damien that the man had not gotten much sleep and had been crying.  
Damien reached inside his tunic and retrieved his Grey Warden pendant. He slipped it over his head and showed it to Valendrian. He did not want to invoke the Right of Conscription to try and build his ranks but he did need people.  
“I see. How is Duncan these days?” Valendrian asked.  
Lyna and Damien both lowered their heads. Yet another person who knew Duncan they had to give the bad news to. Damien could feel the lump lodging in his throat as he looped the pendant back around his neck.  
“Commander Duncan died at Ostagar fighting beside the king.” Damien debated with himself on whether or not to tell the old elf that he was the new commander, but one thing was for certain, he could not reveal that any other warden besides him had survived the battle. It gave their group a distinct advantage, especially if Loghain sent assassins or bounty hunters after them. “I’m the new Commander of the Grey.”  
“Are you intending to invoke the Right of Conscription? We might be the only community in Fereldan that will honor that agreement now that Wardens have been declared outlaws once more,” Valendrian stated.  
Damien shook his head causing the crowd to quiet down slightly. “I came here because I was looking for skilled warriors that I could trust. Men and women who care about Fereldan and all of Thedas enough to fight with me against the Blight. The Wardens may have been nearly wiped out, but as long as one Warden yet lives, the Blight will always have someone to fight against it. That is why I came to you. Soris was a good friend to me. I trust him completely and he could match me in any knife fight. That was why I wanted him and why I asked about the Tabris family,” Damien said causing the rest of the crowd to fall silent.  
“If you’re looking for a Tabris, you found her,” a young elven woman said as the crowd parted revealing an obviously injured girl being helped toward them by another.  
“Kallian, what are you doing out of bed? You must get your rest!” an older man scolded trying to take her other arm, but she yanked it away.  
“Kallian Tabris, I remember you. Soris introduced us a few years ago,” Damien said turning to face her head on. She had matured quite a bit since they last met. Her hair had gone from a platinum blonde to a darker gold color. Even through all the bandages, Damien could see that her muscles were well defined, much like his. She must have had a talent for running like he did.  
“I remember. Well, I remember the scarf at least,” Kallian responded standing on her own and nodding to her friend who took a small step back. “So, you’re needing someone who can fight?”  
“Absolutely,” Damein answered crossing his arms. “Interested?”  
Lyna quickly grabbed his arm and pulled Damien aside. “Are you insane? She’s too injured to escape the Alienage, let alone hold her own in a fight,” Lyna protested.  
“I know, but once she’s healed, she could be a great asset to the group. Trust me,” Damien said smiling. He knew she had her doubts. He could see it in her eyes. Of course, he had his own doubts himself, but if this girl was half as good as Soris was, she would be worth the risk. Turning back to Kallian, he started to advance toward her. “Let me ask you something.”  
“What?” Kallian answered placing her hands on her hips. Damien smirked and continued forward.  
“You spared with Soris, right? Well, knowing him, you two must have kept score. So, what’s the current tally?” Damien asked.  
“48 wins, 45 losses, and 23 draws.”  
“In whose favor?”  
The girl smiled with a rather giddy look on her face as she giggled. “Mine.”


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16  
Damien watched the girl tell her friends and family good-bye as he sat on a root of the tree in the central square. He could hear several of the residents trying to convince Kallian to not go with them. She had nearly fallen over herself to agree to come with them. Damien could only assume she was running away from something.  
Lyna had perched herself behind him on the next root over as she rubbed down her bow with some fresh oil to keep the bow in good shape.   
Damien turned his back to the constant glances from the elves and faced Lyna. “I feel like I’m back in the woods with wolves all around,” Damien said lifting his scarf up over his nose and mouth again.  
“I know what you mean. I’m an elf and I don’t feel comfortable here either,” Lyna stated as she finished wiping down her bow.  
“Actually, they all respect you. As a Dalish elf, you are part of their culture and one of them. Me, I’m just an interloping human that’s taking one of their kin away,” Damien responded.  
“You’re more than that. You’re the Commander of the Grey,” Lyna snapped.  
“Don’t remind me,” Damien responded pinching the bridge of his nose.  
“Still denying what everyone knows is the best fit for you,” Lyna teased tossing her polishing rag at him. Damien caught the cloth and smiled.  
“I don’t think so. I can’t make decisions that will affect the world. What if I screw up?” Damien asked.  
“We trust you, so trust yourself,” Lyna replied. Damien shook his head and pulled the hood a little lower over his face. How could he trust himself? The two groups of people he had led in the past both ended up dead. First his friends in Highever, then the Wardens at Ostagar. He would lead his team because there was no one else, but as soon as there was…  
“Ready?” Kallian asked coming up behind them.  
“Do you think you can keep up with us?” Lyna asked. Damien raised an eyebrow as he turned to face their new recruit. His eyes widened as saw the large bag across her back. If that wasn’t enough to slow her down, there was still the bandages she bore.  
“Won’t know until I try,” Kallian responded.  
“Look Tabris, we’re going to get out of the Alienage by going over rooftops. Can you make jumps like that?” Damien asked motioning to her bandaged calf.  
“Yeah, I can make it,” Kallian stated. Damien smirked. She had a defiant spirit about her. He liked that and she would definitely fit in with the rest of the group.  
“I like the attitude, but if you can’t keep up, you’ll get yourself killed, so I’ll ask again. Can you keep up?” Damien asked leaning closer to her.  
“Um… well… I don’t know,” Kallian replied.  
“Better. Don’t get overconfident in your abilities,” Damien said taking her bag from her and looping over his shoulder. “Lyna, lead the way. Kallian, stay right behind her and I’ll be right behind you.” Lyna nodded and started toward a ladder leading up to the roofs.   
Kallian followed with a slight limp as Damien stayed close behind. He was worried their new recruit might not be able to make it across the rooftops with them. There were several jumps that could take a harsh toll on her injuries. He would have to keep a close eye her and make sure he was ready to catch her if she fell short or lost her footing.  
The trio dashed from roof to roof like a group of squirrels as they approached the market square. Damien could see the running and jumping was draining Kallian of all her stamina as she panted and slowly lost speed and strength. Damien shook his head and whistled loudly causing Lyna to stop up ahead.  
“Why are we stopping?” Kallian asked panting.  
“Because you are completely out of strength,” Damien said flipping Kallian’s heavy bag around to his chest and kneeling down in front of her.  
“What are you doing?” Kallian protested stepping back.  
“Carrying you on my back. I don’t want you making your wounds any worse from more running. The worse they are the longer you will be healing and unable to help us fight,” Damien said waiting for the elf to climb onto his back.  
“But I-” the girl started.  
“Stop stalling. If the commander says get on his back, get on his back,” Lyna scolded crossing her arms. Damien had not heard her take that tone with anyone since before the Joining at Ostagar.  
“It’s not much further. Come on,” Damien ordered more forcefully this time.  
“Fine.” The girl conceded and climbed onto Damien’s back. Damien stood once more carrying the girl piggy-back. He was surprised how light she was but released some of the magic in his muscles to help him run, but only enough to offset the small elf’s weight on his back.  
“I’ll take point the rest of the way,” Damien said moving in front of Lyna. He caught the smallest hint of a smile out of the corner of his eyes as he passed. For someone who was so irritated a moment ago, he wondered what had made her smile like that.  
000  
Landing softly in a back alley just off the market main square, Damien let Kallian down off his back and handed her back her bag. As much as he would rather carry it for her and be a gentleman, she needed to believe that little or no help would be coming from the rest of the group. If she saw true compassion in him, he might not earn her respect. Everyone needed him to be the commander and a commander could not hold any member of his team higher than anyone else. At least, he didn’t think so.  
“Wade’s Smithy, right?” Lyna said dropping down next to him and adjusting her cloak.  
“Yeah, the others should be there by now,” Damien said taking the lead.  
“Others?” Kallian asked.  
“The rest of our group, dalen,” Lyna replied looking back at the girl.  
“Dalen? What’s that?” Kallian snapped clenching her fist.  
“Dalen means child in the elven language,” Damien replied. He had not studied the elven language but he had picked up a few things from passing clans during his travels. As long as the dalish used common tongue for most of the conversation, Damien could usually figure out the translation of the rest.  
“Where did you learn Elven?” Lyna asked looking over at him in shock.  
“On the road. You can learn a lot if no one cares who you are,” Damien replied waving for them to follow him as he made his way toward the smithy on the other side of the square. He could see the group outside the building with the wagon, doing their best not to arouse suspicion and failing spectacularly. He did have to give them credit; for an apostate, Qunari, and two Wardens who were supposed to be dead, they were blending pretty well.  
“Hey, Damien. So, where’s this old friend of yours?” Alsitair said waving.  
“In prison. This is Kallian Tabris. My friend, Soris, was her sparring partner and her mom was his teacher. All in all, she’s got the skills we need. Now let’s get out of here before someone recognizes one of us,” Damien said opening the back end of the wagon.  
“Are you serious? This girl is to injured to do anything. Tis a mistake to bring her with us,” Morrigan protested.  
“I am serious, and her skills will come in handy. Now, let’s get word to Bodahn that we’re leaving. I don’t want to stay in the city overnight if I can help it,” Damien said taking Kallian’s bag from her and tossing it into the wagon. “Oh, by the way, Morrigan, I need you to try and heal some of her wounds before we get to Lake Calenhad.”  
Morrigan let out a disgusted sound and looked the elf girl up and down. “Very well. I shall see to the child.”  
“What is with everyone calling me a child?” Kallian snapped. “I’m a grown woman!”  
“Fully grown…really?” Morrigan asked as she motioned for Kallian to climb into the back of the wagon.  
“She’s grown enough to have already been married,” Damien said patting the horse on the neck.  
“Married? Really?” Alyssa asked as Kallian climbed up.  
“Yeah… and widowed,” Kallian responded. The group fell completely silent.  
“Her groom was killed while trying to rescue her after the Arl’s son kidnapped her and most of the wedding party. Long story,” Damien stated coldly. He could see pity starting to form in the team’s eyes as he waited for the response from Kallian. If she stuck to the way she had been behaving, Damien figured she would shoot a response back that would smash any pity anyone felt for her.  
“It doesn’t matter. It was an arranged marriage anyway,” Kallian said snorting and throwing her head back. He could see how fake her indifference was. As much as she put up a strong front, he could tell that she had truly cared for her dearly departed fiancé. Although, her eagerness to leave the Alienage made him curious. Perhaps it was to get away from any lingering memories of her dead groom, or maybe it was the city that was the problem. Until he got to know her better, there really was no way of knowing.  
Damien closed the flap on the wagon hiding the witch and elf from view as Alistair and Alyssa climbed up into the driver’s seat. Lyna and Leliana stood just behind Damien as he looked around the busy market. There were more guards around than he remembered, but that was to be expected with the war and Loghain’s betrayal. Loghain might be having trouble securing power and the guards were to quiet the masses… or the people might be nervous about the darkspawn and the death of the king.  
“Hey, there’s someone watching us from over there,” Lyna said tugging on Damien’s cloak and nodding her head toward a small house on the corner.  
Damien could see their observer and signaled for the wagon to stay put while Lyna and Leliana slipped down an alley to come up behind the watcher. Damein approached the person slowly pretending to be interested in a merchant’s goods, using a mirror to keep an eye on his prey.  
Once he had closed the distance and turned and charged the observer as fast as he could without using his magic. The person turned to try and get away from him but Lyna and Leliana were there to stop him and knocked him to the ground.  
“Well done,” Damien said adjusting the scarf around his nose and mouth before kneeling down in front of the person.  
“Dirthara-ma,” Lyna cursed stepping threateningly toward the man, but Damien held up a hand. He pulled the hood off the man’s head before sitting back on his heel. He knew the man, and what he most likely wanted.  
“So, Slim Cauldry, still trying to gather information huh?” Damien said standing and helping the man to his feet.  
“I knew it was you. No one else would have the guts to claim to be the Dark Wolf,” Slim said wiping off his cloak with a smile Damien remembered all too well.  
“Name’s taboo huh?” Damien asked.  
“No, notorious. No one has ever wanted to claim the name because right after you left, this guy tried and was shot in his first job as the Dark Wolf. I made sure everyone knew he wasn’t the real one,” Slim stated.  
“Whatever. What’s on your mind?” Damien asked crossing his arms.  
“I’ve got some good info for you. I figured you’re probably still in the business,” Slim said smiling and rubbing his hands together.  
“I’ll take information, but not on scores. I need to know Loghain’s movements and troop deployments. I want to know what he’s doing, who his allies are, and anything else you can tell me,” Damien stated. Slim wouldn’t part with any information unless paid. He called himself an information broker, but he was really more of a criminal hiring agency. Thieves, fugitives, and assassins used the man for information of their pursuers and targets, as well as finding jobs within the city.  
“That’s a lot of information. You know it’s gonna cost you,” Slim responded. Of course it would, information never came cheap.  
“Put it on my tab. I’m good for it,” Damien said crossing his arms.  
“Come on, Wolf. I got to make a living and bribing guards has gotten a lot more expensive,” Slim complained.  
“Slim, Loghain murdered the king at Ostagar and now he is after anyone who might know the truth and can prove it. I need that information on him and his troops to make sure he doesn’t doom Fereldan against the darkspawn,” Damien retorted.  
“I’ve heard something about that. But I also heard that the Grey Wardens talked the king into a no-win battle to kill him and pave the way for an Orleasian invasion,” Slim responded.  
“That’s a load of horse shit,” Damien snapped slamming his fist into the wall.  
“Wait, don’t tell me you were there?” Slim said taking a step back.  
“The Dark Wolf is the new Warden Commander of Fereldan,” Lyna said from behind Damien.  
“Seriously, a thief is now the Commander of the Grey,” Slim said looking Damien up and down. Damien knew he didn’t look like much, certainly not the Warden Commander.  
“I know it’s weird but it wasn’t my choice. I’m the only one left,” Damien said stepping in front of Lyna and signaling for her to remain quiet. Slim may have been an old acquaintance, but he was not loyal enough to keep information about Damien and his comrades to himself.  
“Alright, alright, I’ll see what I can find out for you. How do I get the information to you?” Slim asked. Damien pondered that for a moment. Their next destination was the Circle Tower on Lake Calenhad. If he remembered right, there was an old tavern there at the crossing.  
“If you find anything in the next three days, send it to the Spoiled Princess. I’ll send you a letter for where to send the next set of intel,” Damien instructed extending his hand. With Slim, his word was bond and a handshake was as good as a signature on paper.   
“I can do that,” Slim agreed shaking his hand. Damien smiled. As small a group as they were, good intelligence would make them much more formidable.   
“Okay then, I’ll see you later Slim. Fortune keep you out of the dungeons,” Damien said smiling.  
“And knee deep in gold,” Slim answered. The two phrases were more of a creed among Denerim thieves. Slim had taught Damien all about it when he had first become the Dark Wolf.  
Damien, Lyna, and Leliana smiled as Slim left. Damien quickly led his companions back to the wagon. As the troop made their way toward the main gate, Damien found himself looking over his shoulder and searching the side alleys. He could feel eyes on him as they pushed forward. He pulled his hood lower and tightened the scarf over his nose and mouth. Down one of the alleys on his right, he spotted a cloaked and hooded figure keeping pace with them. Damien slowed up so that he was walking side by side with Leliana.  
“Keep everyone moving. I need to check something out. I’ll catch up in a bit,” Damien stated stepping up and making sure the wagon was between their pursuer and himself. As they passed the next building, he slipped down the alley to head off the figure.  
He drew one of his daggers and waited hiding right at the corner of the building. He could hear the figure approaching. The clank of armor with every step told Damien that they wore armor. He was most likely a soldier or a guard. If he was working for Loghain or Arl Howe, Damien might have to kill him to keep everyone safe.  
Rounding the corner just as the footsteps were within ear shot, Damien raised his blade and caught hold of the man’s cloak shoving him against the wall.  
“Who are you?” Damien demanded pressing the blade against the man’s throat.  
“Get your hands off me,” the man roared trying to push Damien away, but a little more pressure stopped the struggle.  
“I’ll open your throat if you don’t answer me in three seconds,” Damien snarled drawing a small amount of blood from the guard’s neck.  
“I’m not telling you a damned thing,” the guard retorted.  
“Too bad. I really don’t like killing humans. Darkspawn don’t bother me, but there is something about spilling human blood that just seems wasteful,” Damien said pulling his smaller knife and digging the point into the underside of the man’s chin. “Although, I’m sure I could get used to it.”  
Fear filled the man’s eyes as Damien pressed his knife a little harder forcing a small amount of blood to roll down his blade.  
“I was just told to find the last Warden and track him. I swear it in Andraste’s name,” the guard pleaded.  
“Who gave the order?” Damien snapped.  
“Arl Howe.”   
That didn’t surprise him in the least. Howe was after all a slippery, snake and a bastard to boot. Damien wouldn’t be surprised if that monster sent assassins after them. At least they had a slight advantage. Howe didn’t know that more than one Warden survived.  
“Go back to your master and tell him the Warden is going to make sure that he pays with Loghain for their betrayal of Fereldan, even if I have to slit their throats myself,” Damien snarled sheathing both his blades and throwing the man to the ground. Although it was true that spilling human blood made him squeamish, the blood of several people was already on his hands and avenging his friends and the other Wardens was certainly a good enough reason to kill Loghain and Howe. At least in his book, it was.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17  
The sun set behind the hills to the north as the group finished setting up their camp. Damien finished stoking the fire and stood wiping off his hands. He could feel the air getting cooler. They were in for a cold night with the southern wind coupled with the moist northern air.  
“I never expected to be passing so close to Highever again. Not this soon anyway,” Alyssa said stepping to his side. Damien nodded and took off his daggers.  
“I was planning on coming back this way soon, but I don’t think we are ready to take back your family’s home,” Damien said setting his weapons next to his tent and starting to remove his armor. Even though it was lightweight and comfortable, sleeping was still a lot easier without the protection. Besides, he was not on the guard rotation that night so he could sleep through the night for the first time in over a week.  
“No, I don’t think so either,” Alyssa said looking into the fire with her back to Damien.  
The young commander sat down in front of his tent and removed his boots and socks. He would never have gotten this comfortable if he had been with his old friends or traveling alone.  
“Alyssa, sit down. Take a load off. You don’t have guard duty until later tonight, so get some rest while you can,” Damien said crossing his legs and taking out his knife. Using the blade, he scrapped his cheeks taking off the steadily thickening layer of whiskers that were growing in. Even when he was with his friends or traveling, he had always made it a point to stay as cleanly shaven as possible.  
Alyssa sat down next to him and studied the motion. “You could have gone to a barber in Denerim you know,” she said as Damien continued to shave.  
“I’m used to doing it this way. Besides, don’t want to waste funds on a barber,” Damien answered.  
“You know, I could do that for you,” Leliana said sitting down on the other side of him.  
“That’s nice of you, Leliana, but I’m used to doing it myself,” Damien responded.  
“Obviously, but it would be faster and cleaner to allow someone who can see your face to do it, no?” Leliana retorted. Damien couldn’t argue with that, as much as he wanted to. It was still hard to trust Leliana since she was still obviously hiding something.  
“Fine, just be careful,” Damien said flipping the blade in his hand and handing her the knife. Leliana smiled and nodded pouring some water in a small bucket. Damien sighed and closed his eyes as she wet down his face and started where he stopped.  
“Seems like you’ve done this before,” Alyssa said.  
“Yes, I helped take care of my mistress’ guests in Orlais. Some men prefer a young woman to help groom them,” Leliana admitted. Damien could hear a small amount of nostalgia in her voice. She must have really loved her life there. But then, why would she leave? Maybe she was a fugitive like them? Or maybe she was framed and fled to Fereldan? But why would an Orlesian come to Fereldan to hide?  
“You certainly look like you’re having fun,” Alistair said. Damien opened his eyes and chuckled.  
“You stick your head in that bucket and have a knife scrapped against your skin. See how much fun you have,” Damien teased.  
“No need to take away from your experience. I wait my turn,” Alistair responded causing Damien to chuckle slightly.  
“Make me laugh too hard and Leliana here might accidentally cut my throat,” Damien replied. He eyed the girl looking for a reaction but she kept up the same giggly, little girl façade she always did. Maybe he was wrong about her. Maybe that was just the way she was. After all, he pretty much understood everyone else in the group.  
Alyssa’s story was easy enough to guess. Took after her father and brother with a love for combat and honed her skills. Other than that, a proper lady in every way that really mattered.  
Alistair had some secrets and didn’t like talking about his time before his Templar training and the Wardens, but he was too dense to be a mastermind of anything. He certainly had the potential to be a leader but if that ever happened, he would need strong and encouraging people around him.  
Lyna he had really gotten to know in the short time they had been together. She was disgusted by most human and the city elves because of her origins with the Dalish clans, but she was trying to fit in as best as she could.  
Sten was exactly what Damien expected of a militaristic culture’s soldier. Stoic to a fault with a cool and collected head on his shoulders, but there was something that bothered him. Damien had caught him more than once looking toward the west with a longing. It certainly wasn’t homesick. His home was north in Par Vollen. He’d find out what was bothering him sooner or later.  
Morrigan… what could he really say about her. She was as straightforward as they came. She didn’t care what anyone thought and she will always say exactly what she was thinking no matter who was listening. He wasn’t stupid enough to think she didn’t have a hidden agenda but he would worry about that later.  
Even Bohdan and Sandal were easy enough to get a handle on. A good man who found an abandoned boy and raised him as his own with a knack for finding a good deal on goods and weapons. They really had no hidden agenda or alternate goals to speak of.  
Kallian, he would have to get to know a little better before he passed any kind of judgement on her but she certainly had a strong opinion of her skills and was not afraid to boast about it. She also did not like to show any kind of weakness to anyone, but who really enjoyed that?  
Still, Leliana was mostly a mystery. She had a past she was running from and she had honed her skills as a fighter during it somehow, but had also learned skills usually reserved to upper class and nobles. He had to admit a genuine curiosity about the girl’s origins.  
“All done,” Leliana announced handing Damien a moist towel to wipe his face. Damien rubbed his cheeks and neck finding them completely smooth. He may not know much about her past, but the girl made one hell of a barber.  
“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” Damien said wiping off his face. “Has Lyna left to hunt for dinner?”   
“Actually, I’m back,” Lyna said strolling into camp with a pair of rabbits in hand. She stopped short and studied Damien for a moment. “Well you look nice.”  
“Thanks,” Alistair interrupted causing everyone to bust out laughing. Lyna shook her head and started to skin and clean the rabbits to get them ready for dinner.  
Damien stood, still laughing, and made his way over toward Morrigan’s campsite she had set up away from the main group. Kallian was still under her care for at least the next little bit until her wounds had healed. He spotted the city elf resting near the fire with Morrigan applying a poultice to a dark bruise on Kallian’s shoulder.  
“Feeling any better?” Damien asked sitting down in front of her.  
“A little, but Morrigan doesn’t exactly have a good bedside manner,” Kallian said wincing as Morrigan applied more of the poultice.   
“If you want to be babied, you should have stayed in your slum,” Morrigan said patting her rather roughly on the shoulder.  
“Do I have to remind you that you are supposed to be making her feel better, not giving her new bruises,” Damien jested examining Kallian’s bandages.  
“They’re nothing to worry about,” Kallian said using her blanket to cover everything she could, but in doing so revealed a very swollen ankle.  
“Those may not be, but this is. If you can’t be light on your feet, you can’t fight,” Damien said examining her ankle closer.  
“I can fight on it just fine, shem,” Kallian snapped.  
“Let’s see,” Damien said grabbing two pieces of firewood and placing one in her hand. “Face me.”  
Damien could see the smirk on Morrigan’s face as Kallian examined the stick. He hoped Kallian would submit to the treatment and give up on her tough girl act, but that seemed to be impossible with her personality.  
“Fine,” she said starting to get up. Damien twirled the stick around his fingers and took his fighting stance. He had to make sure to go easy on her and make sure she didn’t try anything that might hurt her more.  
Once she was on her feet, Damien wasted no time and immediately attacked. Kallian managed to block his first attack but the block was too weak because of her injured shoulder. Knocking her block aside, Damien swept his leg behind her good one before shoving his body weight into her side. Kallian toppled over and hit the ground hard.  
“If that’s all you’ve got, I should’ve risked breaking Soris out of Fort Drakkon,” Damien snapped tossing the piece of wood into the fire and readying himself again.  
“I wish you would’ve,” Kallian screamed back. The exclamation caught Damien off guard as his eyes widened.  
“Would you rather be back home in Denerim, because you are free to return to your family and friends? If this is the best you can do, I’d spend more time protecting you then fighting our enemy. Your head isn’t on straight,” Damien quieted his voice and sat down next to her on the ground. “Everyone here has either lost something or left everything behind. We understand that struggle. You might have had to be strong for your friends and family back in the Alienage, but you’re with friends who don’t need you to be strong right now. If you’re hurt, admit it and we’ll help you heal. If you need training, ask and we’ll teach you. We may not be family, but we do look after each other. No matter what.” Damien set his hand on her shoulder gently and gave her a soft assuring squeeze before standing and heading back toward the main camp.  
“Soris talked about you.”  
Damien stopped and looked back at the girl. She was crawling back over to her bed and refused to look at him as she continued to talk.  
“He told me that you were a human thief. That you taught him how to move through the city unnoticed, and that you taught him how to survive, and even thrive on the streets. If you did all that for him, could you teach me to be stronger?” Kallian asked.  
“You have plenty of strength, Kallian. You just have to figure out what to use your strength for; your tough girl act, or admitting when you need help,” Damien said turning and walking toward the camp where the others were doing their best to act like they had not heard the disruption. They weren’t doing a very convincing job.  
000  
Sweat cascaded down his face as Damien sat up with a start. Even in the tent and under his blanket and cloak he could feel the cold Fereldan air creeping in and biting at his sweat soaked cheeks. The archdemon had plagued him yet again as he had watched the multitude of darkspawn legions marching toward the surface. He had to admit, knowing that the darkspawn were marching up reinforcements was good intelligence that they could use, but he had no proof of it and he certainly had no clue as to where the beasts were going.  
Using his blanket, he wiped the sweat from his face and lit a candle to see what he was doing. Through the fabric of his tent, he could hear Lyna and Alyssa comforting each other in the next tent, most likely from the same dream.  
He grabbed some paper and some charred wood. He wanted to write a letter, but he wasn’t sure who it would be to yet. His writing wasn’t that impressive and he managed to misspell even simple words. Even reading was a struggle for him, but Heness had been doing his best to teach him. At least he could get his point across in a letter if need be even if it took him forever to read a reply.  
He thought about who he wanted to talk to the most and the only person who came to mind who wasn’t dead was Bethany. He wanted to tell her that he was scared; that the archdemon was screaming in his dreams, demanding his blood. Instead he started telling her about everything that had happened since they had parted and to send any reply to the Spoiled Princess on Lake Calenhad for the next week or so. He told her about Kallian and how her attitude was hindering her healing. By the time he was done with the letter, the sun was starting to rise.  
He folded the letter up and sealed it with the candle wax and pressed his warden pendant to it. Hopefully that would let her know the letter was from him. He slipped the letter into his bag and loaded up everything with it.   
With a stretch and a yawn, Damien crawled out of his tent and looked around the camp. Everyone, even Lyna and Alyssa, were asleep. They must have found enough peace to go back to sleep.  
He fed the fire a little more and started cooking up some breakfast. They still had some leftover rabbit soup and a loaf of bread he could toast up. It would be good enough to get them through the day.  
Damien sat closer to the fire as he warmed up their breakfast and toasted the bread. He wanted to have everything ready as soon as everyone woke up so they could get moving immediately. He planned to head to the circle and recruit the mages to the army as soon as possible. Not to mention having a few more mages in their ranks would certainly be helpful. However, walking into a tower full of Templars did not make him comfortable at all. If any of them noticed what he was, he might be in danger and of course Morrigan would need to stay away from the tower as well.  
They were still a good two days from crossing point to the tower. He couldn’t understand why the mages allowed themselves to be corralled like livestock. As long as they did not resort to blood magic, he didn’t see anything wrong with mages being free from Chantry control. All they needed was a school to help them get control of their power and learn the dangers of magic. He didn’t even have that and he was still okay. All in all, he didn’t think constant Templar overwatch was necessary.  
“Archdemon always ruins the best sleep,” Alistair said sitting down next to him.  
“Damned thing never likes to keep quiet,” Damien responded spooning up some soup for Alistair and handed him some toast.  
“And it won’t until we defeat it, but I’m not even sure how we are supposed to do that,” Alistair confessed.  
“I overheard some of the king’s men at Ostagar talking about what would happen if the archdemon had shown up at the battle and they believed the king had ordered the Grey Wardens to handle the dragon without the rest of the army. It’s just a theory, but I think defeating the archdemon may have something to do with the taint in our blood. Otherwise, I’m sure Duncan would have asked for extra troops to help in the fight,” Damien speculated. He hoped that he was wrong, but judging from their luck, he assumed he wasn’t. Why else would they have been required to drink the darkspawn blood? Just sensing the darkspawn wasn’t enough of a reason, not in his mind. There had to be something else to it. The defeat of the archdemon had to be another reason behind the joining ritual.  
“I’d guess you’re right, but there are only four of us now. If any of us are killed, it will be that much more difficult to fight the damned thing, as if our lives aren’t hard enough,” Alistair said playing with his breakfast.  
“Hey, if you have complaints about the food, fix your own meal,” Damien jested reaching for the bowl. Alistair quickly moved it out of his reach causing some of the broth to spill over and on to his hand. The man shouted in pain as he set the bowl down and wiped his hand off.  
“Not nice,” Alistair scolded.  
“But funny,” Damien retorted.  
“As honorable as that is, I’d rather not burn my hand on anything else. Thank you,” Alistair said collecting his bowl once more.  
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Damien responded.  
The rest of the camp woke up within the next few minutes. They broke camp as soon as everyone had eaten and were on the road once more less than an hour after sunrise. Damien hoped they would reach the Spoiled Princess tavern within two days, but if they got caught in the rain or snow it would slow them down immensely. He hoped they would not, but the clouds overhead loomed threateningly, full of rain and snow.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18  
The Spoiled Princess could not be called special in any way. It was the typical tavern with a few rooms upstairs and a small but rather noisy drinking area for passing merchants, off-duty Templars, and the occasional wandering band of misfits.  
Damien breathed a sigh of relief as he looked out the window and rain started to fall. Merely an hour later and they would have been caught on the road in the down pour. He was glad to see the group laughing as they ate and drank in the warm firelight of the tavern’s hearth.   
However, the lack of off-duty Templars concerned him a little. It made him worry about the state of the Circle. The fewer off-duty Templars the more there would be in the tower itself, and if that was the case, why were so many in the tower to begin with?  
“You look ears deep in thought,” Alyssa said sitting down across from him and setting a pint of ale in front of him.  
“As long as it doesn’t mess up my hair,” Damien responded adjusting his hood.  
“What’s on your mind?”  
“A million and one things, chief among them, the tower and what to expect,” Damien said looking back out the window. Even through the rain, he could still see the outline of the massive structure piercing the sky with its black form.  
“I’m sure we can handle whatever they throw at us,” Alyssa responded taking a drink from her cup. It appeared to be some kind of tea judging from the smell and steam.  
Damien could feel an ominous presence if he concentrated, but since Flemeth had healed him. His ability to sense magic had been much weaker, but if his sensitivity ever got back up to the levels it had been at before, entering the tower could prove difficult. Although, even with his weakened senses, he could still feel something from the building, but it was not what he had expected. It felt darker, more like Morrigan’s presence than the Circle mages back at Ostagar. He had a very bad feeling about what was to come.  
“Alyssa, I want Alistair with me when I head across the lake. Morrigan will stay here to try to get Kallian back on her feet. She’s looking better, but not quite 100%. Other than them, this mission is for volunteers only. Spread the word. Whomever is coming, have them meet me at the docks in an hour. Rain or shine. Oh, and get Brax to watch over the wagon. Tell him I’ll get him a big steak bone when we get back if he’s good,” Damien said pulling scarf down far enough to take a few long drinks of his ale before standing, replacing the scarf, and heading out the door.  
He needed to get closer and see what more he could feel. Maybe some of the locals would tell him some more. He was bound to find a carta dwarf skulking around and if anyone knew what was going on in the tower, it would be those lyrium smugglers. He spotted a man sitting on his front porch looking rather miffed about something, but Damien decided to leave him be. He would probably only get yelled at for butting in on the man’s quiet time.  
“If you’re trying to get to the tower, you should give up now,” the old man shouted. Damien stopped dead in his tracks. Turning slowly, he saw the old man rise from his chair and adjust his jacket.  
“Why is that?” Damien inquired. Maybe he could get the information he needed from this man. It was worth a try.  
“Damned Templars took away my boat. They aren’t letting nobody across to the tower. Cocky bastards,” the man swore spitting into the dirt as if getting rid of the taste of the Templars.  
“Any idea why they’re shutting everyone out?” Damien asked.  
“Don’t know. A messenger headed for Denerim passed through here this morning, I don’t know why though,” the man answered.  
“I appreciate the help,” Damien said waving and heading for the docks. He pulled his scarf up over his nose and mouth and pulled it tight. This time it was for the warmth, not to conceal his identity.  
So, I was right. There’s something going on at the tower. Could it be connected to the Blight…or Loghain? What about Howe? Could this be completely separate from everything else? No, the timing fits too well. This has something to do with either the archdemon or Loghain.  
As Damien got closer to the docks, he spotted a young Templar standing guard over a single row boat. The man looked miserable and soaked to the bone. Damien smirked and made his way back to the wagon. They had extra cloaks and blankets for when theirs got too wet or dirty to use. They could spare a single cloak especially if it helped them get to the tower. After gathering up the spare cloak, he rummaged through the scrolls and papers form Ostagar and found the treaty relating to the mages and slipped it into his bag. He needed to be prepared in case he did not have the chance to come back to the cart before leaving. He headed back over to the soaked Templar keeping the spare cloak under his own.  
“You must have drawn the short straw,” Damien said though his scarf.  
“I suppose I did,” the man responded. Damien could tell from the tone in the man’s voice, he would not be bribed with a dry cloak. He took his job far too seriously, but maybe that was something he could use.  
“Here, you’ll catch your death out here,” Damien said handing the man the cloak. “Especially if you’re the one taking me to the tower.” The look that crossed the man’s face was conflicted to say the least. He obviously wanted the cloak to stay dry but he would not allow himself to be bribed.  
“I’m sorry, but by order of the Knight Commander, no one is to enter the tower until he gives the all clear,” the man responded.  
“I can help with whatever is going on, besides, neither you or the Commander have the authority to deny entry to a Grey Warden. By ancient treaty, the mages of any and all chantry circles are required to answer the call of the Wardens when a Blight comes,” Damien stated crossing his arms.  
“Oh, you’re a Grey Warden are you. Right, let’s see some righteous Grey-Warden-ing. Go one, slay some darkspawn, go on,” the man teased. Damien could feel his blood starting to boil. This idiot was really poking fun at a Warden.  
Damien reached into his tunic and produced the pendant around his neck and held it where the knight could see it. “This proof enough? Oh, and how’s this for Grey-Warden-ing, I’m Warden Commander Damien of Fereldan. I order you to take me to your commander immediately, and if you’re lucky, I won’t report this harassment and demand compensation,” Damien threatened shoving the cloak into his hand and stepping into the boat. True he was only the commander by popular vote within the group but he didn’t mind throwing the title around a little. Besides, no one could contest his claim considering that as far as anyone outside his group knew, he was the only Warden left in Fereldan.  
“Oh, um… I’m so sorry… Of course,” the Templar stammered as the rest of his group appeared. Alistair looked rather nervous. Must have been because Damien had asked for him specifically and left the mission as a volunteer job to everyone else. Despite that, Leliana, Sten, Alyssa, and Lyna all stood ready. Damien looked back at them before realizing something. Every Warden was coming with him. If anything were to happen in the tower or to the boat on the crossing, they could all be wiped out. As much as he wanted to have as many of his people with him as he could, he needed to leave someone stay behind as a guaranteed survivor.  
“Alyssa, don’t be mad after you came out here and got all wet, but I need you to stay behind and keep an eye on Morrigan and Kallian. I get the feeling they might try to kill each other without someone to stop them,” Damien said standing up in the boat.  
“Babysitting? Really?” Alyssa snarled.  
“I also need you to be ready to take command if none of us return,” Damien stated. He knew that was a grim thing to say and would probably scare her to no end, especially considering the loss of her family, but he needed someone with the ability to lead. Alyssa was the only one really bred to be a leader out of all of them.  
The young, former-noble looked around the group in silence before looking back to Damien. “Just promise me you’ll come back. All of you,” Alyssa said taking her sword and shield off her back.  
“No promises, but we’ll give it our best shot,” Damien answered.  
“We’re gonna be fine, you’ll see,” Alistair assured her. Damien smiled, trying very hard not to look worried, but the feeling he was getting from the tower made his blood run cold. Nothing showed any signs of darkspawn, so it had to be something else.  
“Let’s go,” Damien ordered returning to his seat. The sooner they could get to the tower, the sooner they could get a handle on the situation and figure out their next move.   
000  
The tower’s size was even more staggering up close. The rain pelted the stone walls and massive windows. Damien could see flashes and in some of the upper floors as if lightning was striking inside the building. Surely that was possible. He had seen plenty of mages using lightning at Ostagar and that was what the tower was for, right? For mages to study how to control and use their magic?  
“So, why did the ferryman lose his position and his boat? Things at the tower must be pretty nasty if your commander restricted access,” Damien asked pulling the front of his cloak closed, trying to keep the rain from filling his boots.  
“I haven’t heard much, but the commander said there had been some kind of outbreak and he was closing the tower. I really didn’t get all the details,” the Templar answered.  
“An outbreak wouldn’t include lightning up there,” Damien responded pointing the windows as the dim flash mimicked the deadly force of nature.  
“That’s why you left Alyssa and the others behind. You think there’s going to be fighting,” Lyna said softly looking back at him.  
“Would you rather I have left you? I need Alistair and his training if we have to deal with mages, and I’m not about to volunteer to stay behind and force others to go in my stead,” Damien answered.  
“A leader should always lead from the front,” Sten added with a nod.  
“Figured you’d get it, big guy,” Damien said nodding.  
“Still, this is a bit reckless, no? We know nothing of the situation or what’s going on with the tower,” Leliana stated.  
“That’s why I only wanted volunteers… Did I not mention that?” Damien said smirking beneath his scarf.  
“Considering we all heard about this mission from Alyssa who’s back on shore, I’d wager ‘no’, you didn’t,” Lyna responded before chuckling.  
“Well, I’m mentioning it now. Anyone that wants to go back can take the boat back to the tavern and enjoy Alyssa trying to keep the peace between Kallian and Morrigan. You’ll probably want some snacks,” Damien responded before clearing his throat. “But in all seriousness, this is probably going to get pretty dangerous, so if you would like to unvolunteer and you’re not Alistair, you can go back. Be warned, once you are on the island, you’re in. No backing out later.”  
“Singled out again? Why do these things happen to me?” Alistair complained jokingly.  
“Because you make for such a pretty distraction while I’m escaping,” Damien retorted causing Leliana and Lyna to burst out laughing.  
“I have to admit it, Alistair, Damien’s got you pegged,” Lyna stammered between gasps for air.  
“Though I have not seen the Commander run away yet,” Leliana added looking back at Damien.  
“Well, there was Ostagar, both times. Hey Lyna, would first battle count as running away since Brax carried me on his back after I was wounded?” Damien asked.  
“We were running for our lives, so I think it counts,” Lyna responded.  
“You were wounded at Ostagar?” Leliana asked.  
“Yeah, broke my skull on an ogre horn during the fight. Morrigan’s mother fixed me up. It was a bit of a headache,” Damien jested tapping his forehead with his index finger.  
“He did get pretty banged up,” Lyna added.  
Damien chuckled. ‘Banged up’ was certainly an understatement. If Flemeth had not healed him, he would have died.  
The boat pulled up to the dock with the Tower looming overhead like a dark cloud. Five man squads of Templars were patrolling the perimeter on high alert. He had scouted enough warehouses and royal storage areas to know when guards were trying to keep people out, or something in. In this case, it was both.  
“Let’s head inside and see what’s going on for ourselves,” Damien said climbing out and waving for everyone else to follow.  
“What do you think is going on?” Alistair asked.  
“I have a theory. I just hope I’m wrong,” Damien answered. The only reason he could think of for the Templars to lock down the tower like this was demons or a rebellion. Either way, they were about to wade into a warzone the likes of which none of them had ever seen.  
000  
Templars were hustling about right and left carrying timber, weapons, and wounded every which way. To call it chaos would have been complimentary. Damien had to admire whoever was in command if they were managing to keep their wits in all the commotion.  
“Knight Commander, we have incoming!” a Templar shouted from the doors leading to the tower. Damien watched a gray-haired man with no helmet step forward to take charge. He carried the weight of a veteran on his shoulders and everyone could see it. Damien assumed he and the others had similar looks about them.  
“Close and bar the doors. Hopefully those reinforcements will be here soon,” the man ordered turning and seeing Damien. “What is this? I said no one was to enter the tower without my express permission.”  
“I’m afraid your man at the docks didn’t have much of a choice,” Damien said producing his pendant.  
“I grow tired of the demands of Wardens. We gave you hundreds of my men and dozens of mages for your battles in the south. We have nothing more to give,” the commander snarled.  
“We’re not here to make demands of you or your men, but we are trying to stop a Blight so I do need to talk to the mages. They are bound by this treaty to aid us,” Damien said showing the man the treaty.  
“I’m afraid that is impossible. The tower has been overrun with demons and abominations. I doubt there is anyone left alive,” the Templar stated looking over at the door.  
“Mages are tougher than you think. They can’t all be dead. Besides, I saw lightning in the windows on the way across the lake. There’s at least a few in there that are still fighting,” Damien snapped.  
“Most likely abominations finishing off what was left of my men,” the commander said hanging his head.  
“You’ve lost all faith in both your men and the mages, haven’t you?” Leliana cut in.  
“Quiet girl, I have every confidence in my men, but the overwhelming numbers of demons and abominations pushed everyone else back, cutting them off from us,” the man argued.  
“Everyone calm down. Let’s try this again,” Damien said raising a hand to silence Leliana and anyone else that might try to talk. “I’m Warden Commander Damien.” He extended his hand hoping that they might be able to talk more civilly.  
“Knight Commander Greagoir,” the commander replied shaking Damien’s hand. “I must be honest, I had hoped that when I heard a Warden had survived Ostagar that it might have been Duncan.”  
“Trust me, Knight Commander, if I could trade places with him, I would,” Damien replied lowering his head.  
“I’m afraid that even with more pleasant introductions, the situation has not changed. The tower must be purged. I have already sent word to Denerim for reinforcements and the Right of Annulment,” Greagoir stated crossing his arms.  
“Right of Annulment?” Damien asked looking back at Alistair.  
“He means he asked the Chantry for permission to completely wipe out all life in the tower. Every mage,” the former Templar responded with a look of horror in his eyes.  
Damien’s eyes opened wide as he turned back to the commander. He couldn’t be serious. There had to be people still alive in there. Mages and Templars still fighting to survive. If the Templars were going to abandon them, maybe he could step in. He had never fought a demon or abomination before but it couldn’t be harder than fighting darkspawn, right?  
“Commander, let us take care of this for you. In return, you pledge the men under your command to help me stop the Blight,” Damien said. He didn’t dare look back at his team considering he was volunteering them to run head long into a battle they knew very little about.  
“I assure you, demons and malificar are not to be taken lightly,” Greagoir stated.  
“Neither am I. I was recruited to the Wardens because of my ability to fight and everyone with me is just as skilled as I am. Now, do we have a deal?” Damien stated.  
“If you are able to clear the tower of demons and abominations before the reinforcements arrive with the Right, then you will have mine and my men’s support against the darkspawn,” Greagoir promised.  
“That works for me,” Damien replied drawing his daggers and leading everyone toward the door.  
“I won’t open these doors for anyone except the First Enchanter if there are still people alive in there besides you. Understand?” Greagoir stated as the guards removed the locks and peaked though the door to check to see if the coast was clear.  
“So, either we kill everyone in here, or save the First Enchanter,” Damien stated twirling his daggers as he looked back at the Knight Commander.  
“Correct. If Irving is dead or turned, there is no hope for anyone beyond that door,” Greagoir stated.  
“Got it. We’ll take care of this, just be ready to hold up your end of the bargain,” Damien stated as the guards slowly closed the doors behind them.  
Covered in a blanket of blood and corpses, the hall stretched out like a gruesome battleground. As he knelt to examine one of the bodies, Damien’s stomach turned. He had seen animal attacks, sword wounds, broken bones, and nearly every disease in Thedas during his travels but this type of brutality was beyond compare. Claw marks and lacerations that cut down into the bone and the pure savagery of the attacks couldn’t be matched by an animal on the hunt or defending its territory. No, whatever attacked these people was more savage than a rabid Blight Wolf and more ferocious than a dragonling.  
“I have never seen anything like this,” Lyna said holding her hand over her nose and mouth. Damien knew she smelled it just like he did, a foul odor on the air completely separate from the fresh corpses. They had a more metallic, sweet smell to them, but this scent was like ink covered in burning sugar and melting skin. There was something else here. Damien could feel the corrupted power in every fiber of his being. For the first time since Flemeth had healed him, he was very happy that his magic had been drained from his body. He wasn’t sure if he would have been able to stand otherwise.  
“Keep moving. If there are survivors, we need to clear them a path for when we find the First Enchanter. We check every room and every hiding place. Alistair, I’m counting on you if we run into abominations. You’ve got the training to fight them,” Damien said gripping his daggers more tightly.  
“It’s all theory for me. I’ve never actually faced any,” Alistair exclaimed.  
“Well, let’s apply that theory and kick some ass,” Damien retorted standing and kicking open a door.  
“Subtle, I like it,” Alistair replied following Damien into the room.  
The other three joined them quickly only to be met with more of the same scene they had found in the hallway. The room was a massive dormitory with hundreds of beds that had been turned over, stacked up, or broken. It looked like a storm or a tornado had smashed its way through, but being in the Circle Tower, that might have actually happened at some point.  
“Clear each room carefully. If you find something or someone, call out, but stay within ear shot,” Damien ordered signaling for everyone to move out. He didn’t say it out loud, but seeing all the death around him was getting to him. The torn faces were turning into Heness, Griggs, and Lockey. Some were even Duncan, Teryn Cousland, Jory, and Daveth. It was really starting to get to him. No! Keep your head on straight. Don’t freak yourself out. The demons might take advantage of that. Focus on the fight.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19  
“Did you find anything?” Lyna asked.  
“I found a copper under a bed, but other than that, nothing but corpses. It’s like someone cleared out everything in these rooms already,” Damien said tossing her the copper coin.  
“Then shouldn’t we move on?” Sten suggested sternly.  
“Yeah, we should. The longer we wait the more people we are going to lose,” Damien said sheathing one of his blades.  
They made their way back into the hall, but the moment they stepped out the door they heard a blood curdling scream and a roar that was unlike anything he had ever heard before. Plus, the feeling that came along with it chilled him to the bone, and yet burned like a branding iron under his skin.  
“Let’s move!” Damien shouted sprinting forward. If he was going to lead, he would lead from the front, by example. If he hesitated, so would everyone else, right?  
He entered through an archway into a massive hall with towering columns of beautiful masonry, but as nice as the scenery was, what he saw coming toward him ruined it. A massive pile of what looked like molten, red hot steel lurched its way toward him. He drew his other dagger and readied himself, but he was not sure how to attack it. It at least looked like he would burn himself if he tried touching it. As the beast spread thin arms with nothing but molten claws for hands, an elderly woman dressed in enchanter robes ran up in front of him, twirled her staff in front of her creating a rune in midair before catching it, and spreading her arms wide. A chill filled the air as the horrifying creature turned to ice and shattered into a million pieces.  
“Who are you and what are you doing here? Stay back,” the mage snapped turning to face Damien and raising her staff.  
“Pull back on the reins there grandma. Same team,” Damien said quickly sheathing his daggers and raising his hands. He still had his throwing knives for defense if he needed them, but he assumed that the elderly mage wouldn’t attack unless he made the first move. She had a protective aura about her. He couldn’t quite understand why she didn’t seem aggressive but that was simply the way he felt.  
“Wait, I recognize you from Ostagar. You’re the Gray Warden who never showed his face. Why are you here? Have you come to kill us?” the woman asked tightening her grip on her staff.  
“No, I’m here to save whomever I can. I swear. The Templars let me in to see if I could clear the tower. If we do, they promised support against the Blight,” Damien explained.  
“Clear the Tower? They sent you in here to purge the Circle, didn’t they?” the woman hissed.  
She had her guard up so much that every little word was causing a problem. “That’s not my first choice. They said that we need to find someone named Irving, the First something?” Damien said rubbing his chin through his scarf.  
“The First Enchanter. So, they sent you in to find out if he still lives?” the woman asked.  
“My mission is to enlist the help of the mages against the Blight. To do that and save all those that are left, I need to find this Irving guy and bring him back to the door. That’s the only way that the Knight Commander will believe that the Tower is under control again,” Damien explained.  
“Then, you are here to save us. In that case, my name is Wynne. I’m glad to meet in face to face,” the mage said bowing shallowly.  
“Damien, glad to meet you,” Damien responded extending his hand. Wynne smiled and shook it before turning to look at the other side of the room. It was only then that Damien saw why she was being so snippy with him when he arrived. In the back, as far away as they could get from the doorways, well over three dozen children huddled together. There were a few mages there as well, but he couldn’t tell how many. Not enough to hold back the Templars, that was for sure.  
“Do you know if the Templars have the Right of Annulment yet?” Wynne asked. Damien lowered his head and stepped closer so the children would not hear what he had to say.  
“Greagoir sent for it and reinforcements from Denerim, but with the rain and muddy roads I believe we should have about three days to handle everything here if we want to be done before it returns,” Damien answered in a hushed whisper.  
“Three days? How can you be sure?” Wynne asked.  
“I asked around the village and the ferryman told me that a messenger came through town this morning. It took my group and I three days to get here, but we had a wagon, supplies and several of us on foot. Besides, I would rather be cautious about the amount of time we have, wouldn’t you?” Damien said. He knew the messenger would get held up by the rain and muddy roads and the Chantry would delay them too, but three days was what he said. He hoped it would be more like five or six, but three was a safe bet.  
“So, what happened here?” Alistair asked kneeling to examine the shattered creature on the floor.  
“Let it suffice to say that we had something of a revolt on our hands, led by a mage named Uldred. He was at Ostagar too, but when he returned from the battle, he tried to take over the Circle. As you can see, it didn’t work out as he planned. I don’t know what else has happened, but I know this is his doing. I refuse to lose the Circle to one man’s pride and stupidity,” Wynne stated taking a step forward.  
“Sounds like you are wanting to come with us,” Damien said smiling and crossing his arms.  
“That is the plan,” Wynne replied.  
“What about the children? Will they be okay without you?” Damien asked.  
“Petra and Kinnon will look after the children and keep them safe, and if we kill everything we face, there will be nothing that can get to the children,” Wynne stated.   
“I like the way you think. Protection by elimination,” Damien said looking over at the doorway he assumed led into the rest of the tower. He could feel a strong energy coming from it, not unlike the magic he felt around Wynne. It must have been some kind of barrier to keep enemies out and the children from wandering away.  
“Not to be the nay-sayer here, but aren’t you a little on the old side to be mixing it up with demons and abominations?” Alistair asked raising his hand meekly.  
“She did take down that demon that was in here earlier, and at the very least, she could enchant our weapons to make them more effective against those monsters, no?” Leliana suggested.  
Wynne smiled at the girl and approached. “I can do so much more than that.”  
“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were itching to get back at the guys that did all this,” Damien said crossing his arms.  
“I suppose it would not be wrong to want vengeance for something like this, but I believe that protecting these children is the most important thing. Without defeating the demons in the tower, eventually they would be killed by the demons or the Templars,” Wynne stated.  
“I can respect that. Let’s not waste any more time, move out!” Damien shouted waving for everyone to move.  
“First thing’s first, let me take down the barrier,” Wynne said raising her hands. The motion was followed by a series of small pops as the barrier broke down and dissipated.  
“Stay together. Leliana and Lyna, rear guard and cover. Wynne, you’re in the middle with Alistair. He’ll watch your back. Sten, you’re up front with me,” Damien ordered as he charged forward with Sten hot on his heels and everyone else behind him.  
The first room they came to was a library that was far beyond anything he had ever seen. Bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling stocked with a multitude of books. How many of them could tell him more about his magic? Could there be some about Flemeth or maybe Morrigan? Could he learn different types of magic, maybe even healing spells? He quickly shook his head pushing the thoughts from his mind. He could not let himself think about learning more about his magic. He had to focus only on the task at hand.  
A roar of rage yanked him out of his head as two monstrous forms came charging at him. He crossed his daggers in front of him ready to counter their attack. Sten managed to catch one of the beasts across the abdomen with his sword chopping it in half. He charged forward and flipped over the creature and swung both blades down hard separating its arms from its body then plunging his blade through the monster’s back. The tip protruded from the beast’s chest as it gurgled and gasped for air. Ripping the blade free, the beast fell to its knees and collapsed to the floor.  
“What the hell are these things?” Damien said poking at the corpse with his dagger.  
“Those are abominations. Malificar that have mutated into monsters,” Wynne explained glancing under the table. Damien assumed she was looking for more survivors, but how lucky would someone have to be to survive in the tower in this state? He believed that his team would survive because they had combat experience working as a team. Not to mention each of them was highly skilled.  
“They die just as easily as darkspawn, so let’s get this done,” Damien declared wiping the blood from his blades.  
They found their rhythm as they advanced through the war-torn halls and rooms. Wynne would weaken the creatures with her magic as best she could while Leliana and Lyna picked off targets from a distance. Sten and Damien would attack and finish close-combat targets while Alistair would negate any enemy spells using his Templar training. The strategy worked well for them as they cleared each floor, but with well over fifty floors to clear, they certainly had their work cut out for them.  
As they emerged on the fifteenth floor, Damien called for everyone to take a rest. He could feel that Wynne was dangerously low on magical power, but he dared not mention his ability to sense it in front of her. The rest of the group seemed relieved for the rest as well. On each floor they had run into no less than ten abominations and demons. The fighting only seemed to be getting fiercer the higher up the tower they climbed. Thus far, they had only found six survivors, all of which were injured and in need of extensive help. Damien had hoped to find a few promising mages to help fill their ranks but that seemed to be a quickly fading dream.  
“Wynne, what all is on this floor?” Damien asked keeping an eye on the doorway leading to the rest of the floor.  
“This floor marks the beginning of the mage quarters. Any of the mages that passed their Harrowing would be here. The other floors below were mainly for apprentices and their studies. We’ll start seeing more research up here,” Wynne explained.  
“So, the more skilled mages would be up here on the higher floors? I’m assuming your First Enchanter’s quarters are even higher?” Damien asked.  
“His office and quarters are up on the Senior Enchanter’s floors. Floor 46 to be exact,” Wynne stated.  
“And what’s on the top floor?” Lyna asked.  
“The Harrowing Chamber. I’m assuming that is where Uldred is holding Irving,” Wynne answered.  
“Why there? There has to be a more secure location like a vault or at least somewhere more defensible,” Damien said rubbing his chin puzzlingly.  
“The meeting where all of this started was being held in the Harrowing Chamber. Anyone that made it out might be able to tell us more, but that is my assumption,” Wynne answered.  
“Good enough for me. Alright, let’s rest up and then we’ll continue on. For the moment, I’ll scout ahead and see what we’re up against on this floor,” Damien said drawing his blades once more.  
“I can go with you,” Leliana offered.  
“Keep watch here. I can move faster and quieter alone. Hopefully, I won’t need my blades until we link back up,” Damien said twirling the daggers and running silently for the door. He had not been using his magic for fear that Wynne might notice, but without the others around, he could move faster and maybe even clear the floor before they were done resting.  
As he rounded the corner, he could hear fighting further down the passage. It was muffled but the sound of combat was easily discernable. Someone was still alive, and they were fighting. Could the more experienced mages have been able to hold their own? Were they the ones using the lightning he saw during the crossing? Only one way to find out.  
Damien charged forward doing his best to keep his steps quiet and his breathing slow. The closer he got before attacking, the easier it would be to save whoever was fighting.  
“Hang on Neria, please try to stay awake!” The shout shook Damien’s resolve. He didn’t have time for stealth anymore. If someone was about to die, he needed to get there fast and end the fight. Using his magic to increase his speed, Damien crashed through the door blocking his way toward the voice. As he did, he spotted a pair of young mages in the corner of the room behind a wall of fire, but despite their flaming defenses, abominations were still trying to reach them.  
The mage in front was a young man who looked to a little younger than Damien. The dark circles under his eyes showed his fatigue from constant fighting as he used his staff like a club, desperately trying to defend a young elven mage who appeared to have collapsed behind him. Damien could feel their magic was pure, surrounded by the darker, more foul magic emanating from the abominations.   
Damien quickly changed directions and sprinted straight at the enemy’s backs slicing into them with a vengeance. The abominations’ focus was so locked on the two mages, Damien remained unnoticed as he slashed into them. He lobbed off two of the beasts’ heads with one motion before using his momentum to smash another against the wall. Using the new corpse as a springboard he swung his daggers out in front of him and pierced the chest of another assailant before pushing off and somersaulting over the victim of his stabbing attack. The speed of his movements ripped the blades from the beast’s chest and he brought them over his head and down on two more of the beasts. The last one tried to back away but Damien hurled the blade in his left hand, aided by his magic, and pinned it to the wall. He approached slowly and sliced the beast’s throat before ripping the blade out of its chest and let the corpse fall to the floor.  
“Wow, I’ve never seen anyone fight like that,” the young man said keeping a hold on his staff. Damien smirked. Even though he had saved them, the boy was still on guard. Smart kid.  
“Because I’m the only one that fights this way. Are you two okay?” Damien asked thrusting his blades down forcing the blood to spray off the weapons.  
“We’ll live.” The response was short and Damien could feel that the mage was trying to buy time to build up his magic again.  
“Well, good luck to you. I’m off,” Damien said twirling his blades around him before sheathing them.  
“Wait, aren’t you a Templar?” the boy shouted after him.  
“Do I look like a Templar to you?” Damien said turning around once before reaching inside his tunic for his pendant. “I’m Warden Commander Damien.” He worried himself with how easily he was admitting to being the Warden Commander, yet still refused to show his face outside of their own camp.  
“But I thought all the Wardens were killed at Ostagar,” the elven girl said sitting up slowly from the floor.  
“Take it easy. Get your strength back,” the boy said turning slightly. Damien was becoming more and more impressed with the young man. He kept his guard up even after fighting for Maker knew how long and defended a fellow mage. If he could recruit new Wardens, this mage would definitely be one of his first choices.  
“I survived and took command out of necessity,” Damien stated. “Now I’m here trying to recruit the mages to help me fight the Blight, but I never expected anything like this.”  
“We’re not even sure what’s going on,” the girl said.  
“Well, you can head down stairs and take shelter on the first floor with the other survivors or you can help me find and save your First Enchanter to keep the Templars from invoking the Right of Annulment,” Damien said smiling and crossing his arms.  
“You want our help?” the boy asked. The boy’s grip loosened on his staff as Damien extended his hand.  
“Either way, I’m glad you two are okay,” Damien stated.  
“It’s thanks to you. My name is Daylen Amell, and this is Neria Surana,” Daylen replied taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “We’ll help you in whatever way we can. Neria is one of the best healers in the tower. She can also replenish mana as long as hers holds up.”  
“And Daylen trained to be a battlemage. He has the elemental spells down perfectly,” Neria added getting to her feet slowly.  
“I’ll be glad to have both of you. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team,” Damien said waving for them to follow him.  
“Team?” Daylen asked.  
“You don’t think I fought through fifteen floors of demons, abominations, and maleficar all on my own in one evening do you?” Damien asked glancing back at them.  
“Still, why would you fight alone if you had a team with you?” Daylen asked.  
“Time, my friend. You two were running out of it. If I have to put myself in danger to save someone, I’m more than happy to do it,” Damien responded.  
“But what if we had been maleficar?”  
The question caused Damien to smile. The kid was more intelligent than he had originally thought. He could not reveal that he could feel their magic power and their purity. He needed to come up with something to cover himself… or maybe he could simply play it off…  
“Then I would’ve had to kill you, wouldn’t I?” Damien answered without turning to look at his new companions.  
“I guess that was why you were watching my motions after you killed that last abomination,” Daylen stated. Damien could feel their eyes on his back as they made their way closer to where the others were resting.  
“Sharp eyes, kid. You might have what it takes to survive this fight after all,” Damien said looking back at the pair and smiling. Honestly, it was an empty smile. He wasn’t sure if any of them would survive this battle. They had cleared fifteen floors, but they still had thirty-five to go and only two days to get it done. They were fighting the hour glass just as much as the enemy for every step. Once everyone was recovered enough to move. They would need to start fighting again immediately.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20  
Floor thirty was just up the stairs, but Damien couldn’t bring himself to take another step. Having Daylen and Neria helping Wynne to keep everyone fighting and cast spells against the enemy had helped tremendously and they had saved another few dozen mages, multiple tranquil, and even a handful of Templars. Most of them had descended to the lower levels to take shelter and nurse their wounds while Damien and his comrades pushed forward.  
“I’m sorry, but I have to stop,” Lyna said slouching against the wall and sliding to the floor.  
“We cannot stop. There are enemies to be slain,” Sten thundered lifting his sword.  
“Easy there, big guy. We know the enemy is still out there, but look up at the east wall windows. The sun is rising. We’ve been fighting and climbing this damn tower all night. We need rest. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat to go along with it, but if you want to keep fighting, please, take the first watch,” Damien said crashing to the floor.  
“Are you alright, Damien?” Alistair asked sitting down against an overturned table.  
“Cold floor, feels good,” Damien responded. He didn’t hear much else after that as dreams overtook him in a dark swirling cloud.  
Suddenly, he was standing in a massive fortress with high archways and surrounded by men and women of every race brandishing the blue and silver armor of the Gray Wardens. As he started making his way forward, he could feel something was off about his surroundings. He had felt it before but he was not sure where or what it was.  
“Welcome back to Weisshaupt,” a familiar voice called from a table. Damien whirled around to see Duncan lifting a mug.  
“Duncan? What are you doing here? How did you survive? I thought,” Damien started but Duncan got up and put his arm around him.  
“Why all the questions, my boy? The darkspawn are beaten remember? We set their underground lairs ablaze. You led the final march yourself,” Duncan said raising his mug as the others roared their approval.  
“No, this is wrong. How did I get here? What’s going on?” Damien snapped pushing Duncan away.  
“What’s wrong? Don’t you want a drink?” Duncan asked offering him a mug.  
Damien took another step back. What the hell is this? Maker, am I going crazy? Did I die? No, no, just calm down and think. Try to calm your mind and remember. They said that this was Weisshaupt, the Gray Warden headquarters, but I’ve never been here… or there… whatever. So, a journey like that I would remember. And a march on the underground lairs, I should remember that. This has to be a…  
“This is a dream. I’m in the Fade. That’s all this is. You’re demons trying to get control of me,” Damien shouted. Suddenly, his scarf and hood appeared and the Warden armor he was wearing turned back to his leather armor bring his daggers and throwing knives back to this side. “I won’t let you!”  
Damien charged forward ripping his daggers from their sheathes and lobbed off the fake Duncan’s head.  
“How dare you,” the others spoke in unison. “We give you a place to be happy and safe, but you refuse.”  
“Send me back to my body, or I will tear your world to pieces. I swear it!” Damien roared.  
“You will not be leaving. You are mine!”  
The exclamation caused the others to charge him. Damien dodged the first attacks and lay into them swinging his blades like a madman. He sliced, stabbed, cleaved, and slashed his way through the fake wardens until he came up on a demon standing at the top of a small ramp.  
“You must be my captor,” Damien said twirling his daggers.  
“I could make you happier here. You really should rest,” the demon said chuckling.  
“Not a chance in hell,” Damien shouted charging forward.  
The demon extended claws that stretched to nearly the length of Damien’s blades as the youth closed the distance on the creature. He used his forward motion to throw himself at the beast. He used his left hand to knock the enemy’s long claws away from him and tried to slash at it with his right. At the last second, the demon managed to move just enough to dodge his attack and fling him to the stone floor. Leaping back to his feet, Damien charged forward again this time intent on forcing the devil to duel him continuously, perhaps there might be an advantage he could exploit. Yet, the moment his daggers crossed with the demon’s claws, he knew he was out matched in strength. He would need to rely on his speed and outsmart the demon. Damien quickly leapt backward to try and reassess his advisory.  
“So, what do they call you?” Damien asked as he studied his opponent.  
“Introductions are so tiresome. Why must you ask for such a tedious exercise?” the demon responded.  
“That might as well be an answer. You’re a demon of Sloth. Easy enough to figure out. At least now I know whose fate to threaten other demons with next time,” Damien snarled. He could see his advantage now. Sloth’s footing was awkward to put it mildly. The beast stood with its toes pointed in at each other. There was no way that a demon of Sloth with feet like that could move very fast, especially if Damien managed to pin one down with a throwing knife.   
Damien sheathed his left-hand blade and took his stance. He had to time the throw perfectly to pin the foot, then slice it off at the knee. Immobilized, he could finish the beast off. His left hand wrapped around one of the blades on his back as he started moving forward. The demon cackled as he picked up speed and hurled the throwing knife at the top of the beast’s foot. It connected sending a small amount of blood up into air, but as Damien came in close enough to deliver his crippling blow, the other foot lifted and smashed into his side. The air poured from his lungs as he crashed to the ground gasping for air and losing grip of his other dagger. He quickly drew his left-hand dagger and switched it to his right hand as he stood. There was no time to look for the other one. Even short of breath, he had to charge while his enemy didn’t expect it. He hurled two more throwing knives, burying them in the beast’s knees before hurling his dagger. The blade and time itself seemed to slow down as the blade turned in the air. With a dull thud and a crackling sound, the blade buried itself in the beast’s head. Damien reached behind him and grabbed a throwing knife in each hand and charged forward. Leaping forward, he landed knees first on the demon’s chest sending it to the floor as he pounded the throwing knives into its chest over and over again.  
“You… You did it,” a voice said from behind him.  
Damien jumped off the demon and pulled two more blades from his pouch. Before him stood a mage with greasy black hair and dirty robes. He looked like he had been through hell three times over.  
“Who are you?” Damien demanded.  
“I am Niall, Mage of the Circle. I was on my way to try and stop Uldred when that demon attacked me, but that was several days ago. My body has long since died. I am stuck here,” the mage stated.  
“You better not be asking for a ride back,” Damien snarled raising his blades.  
“No, no, not at all. Have you ever heard of the Litany of Adralla?” Niall asked.  
“I’m not a mage you dunce. What the hell is a Litany of blah-blah?” Damien said sheathing his blades.  
“Litany of Adralla. It is a defense against blood magic and mind control. Uldred has been turning the mages one at a time through torture and mind control. The Litany is the only option we have to negate his power and save those that have not been turned yet,” Niall explained.  
“Where is it?” Damien asked.  
“I had it in my right inside pocket in my robes. My body should be in the main chamber of the thirty first floor, but be careful. Since you killed Sloth here in the Fade, he should be dead in our world, but I don’t know for sure,” Niall answered. Damien nodded and placed a hand on the mage’s shoulder.  
“I promise you, I’ll stop Uldred and avenge everyone who died here,” Damien assured him. Niall smiled and nodded.  
“For the first time since I got here, I actually have some hope. Thank you.” As the man spoke, Damien watched his physical form fade away as his vision blackened. He could hear someone calling his name in the distance calling him back. He closed his eyes tight and did everything he could to open them both in the Fade and the real world.  
“Damien, time to wake up,” someone snapped as he felt a hard smack across his face. Sitting up quickly, he nearly smashed his forehead into whoever had slapped him.  
“What’s going on?” Damien asked rubbing his cheek and looking around. Alistair had fallen back on his butt, apparently he had been the one to wake him.  
“You wouldn’t wake up. You’ve been out for five hours,” Lyna said kneeling down next to him.  
“A demon had a hold on you, didn’t it?” Wynne said crossing her arms.  
“Yes, a demon of Sloth, but I met a mage named Niall and he told that he had something called the Litany of Adralla and we could use it to beat Uldred,” Damien reported sliding back so he could rest against the wall.  
“The Litany? That is for use against blood magic and mind control. Is that what’s going on here?” Wynne asked.  
“That would be my guess. Besides, Niall was in the meeting with Uldred and Irving. He would have known what’s going on,” Daylen said tapping his chin.  
“But, where is Niall? Shouldn’t he be here with you if you met him in the Fade?” Neria asked.  
“He said he had been there too long and his body had died here in the real world, but he did tell me where his body was and where to find the Litany,” Damien said sighing and trying to get to his feet. Leliana offered him her hand quickly to help him up. He smiled and accepted her help.  
“So, there is no saving him…” Wynne said sorrowfully.  
“He did give us the means to save Irving and any other survivors at the top of the tower. They need to be our main focus now,” Damien stated.  
“He’s right. Now that we’re rested, we should make for the top floor as quickly as possible,” Lyna agreed adjusting her quiver.  
Damien checked to ensure his scarf still covered his face and his hood was still up before drawing his daggers. For the past few floors, with Daylen and Neria having joined their merry band, he had been able to use Alistair in the front ranks allowing them to carve through their enemies much faster. If they kept their pace, they could be at the top of the tower by nightfall depending upon the tenacity of their opponents.  
“Lyna and I will scout ahead and recover the Litany from the next floor. Everyone else, you are under Alistair’s command. Clear this floor and meet us at the stairs,” Damien ordered. Having Lyna with him would not slow him down and he could be sure that she would be just as quiet as he was if not more so.  
“Why me?” Alistair asked.  
“Would you rather put on a dress and dance the Remigold?” Damien asked glancing back at this fellow warden and smirking.  
“That’s where I draw the line!” Alistair exclaimed causing the rest of the group to laugh heartily.  
“Honestly Alistair, you need the practice. If we need to divide up into teams later for any reason, I’ll be relying on you,” Damien said.  
“We’re dead,” Lyna said exaggerating the motion of feeling faint eliciting more laughter.  
Damien quickly pulled Alistair aside to speak softly to him. “As the Senior Warden here, I need to be able to trust you with this. You know how to lead, I’ve seen you do it at Ostagar. Come on, I’m counting on you. Besides, it’s only one floor,” Damien whispered.  
“I’ve been wondering… Why are you telling everyone that you are the only Warden left?” Alistair whispered back.  
“It’s the easiest way to keep you and the others safe. If Loghain only knows of one Warden who survived, then if he sends anyone after us, they’ll focus their attacks on me,” Damien confessed. “But keep this to yourself. I don’t want Lyna or Alyssa to know. If they ask, just say I’m enjoying the fame or something like that.”  
“More like infamy,” Alistair responded.  
“You might be right on that one,” Damien said returning his voice to its usual volume and laughing. Alistair smiled and laughed with him.  
“Alright Damien, I can handle this,” Alistair assured him.  
Damien nodded his agreement and waved for Lyna to follow him as they sprinted silently down the hallways. They snuck past several demons as they made their way to the staircase to the next floor and crept slowly up the stairs.  
“So, when they said that a demon had a hold on you, was it because of your magic?” Lyna asked.  
Damien looked back at her before wetting his lips. Sure, that probably had something to do with it, but it seemed like the demon had specifically targeted him. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was mage or not. If so, he was the weakest one in the tower. His power was so weak, the other three mages with them did not even notice what he was.  
“That might have helped, but I think the demon was more trying to slow us down. What better way to stop a group then to take out the leader,” Damien answered softly. It might as well be the truth.  
“I guess. Is that what you and Alistair were talking about?” Lyna asked.  
“Sort of. More of motivation to help him get in a leader mindset,” Damien replied. Omission wasn’t that much of a lie, right? He just wanted to protect the other Wardens. If a little lie kept them safe, what was the harm?  
The pair stepped through the door at the top of the stairs and peeked through to try and see if there were any enemies waiting for them. The coast was clear but Damien still had a bad feeling and quickly drew his daggers.  
“What is it?” Lyna asked notching an arrow as they slipped through the door.  
“Tingle up my spine,” Damien said looking around cautiously. As they started forward, Damien could see at least a dozen corpses up ahead. Several were that of mages but others were demons along with a single Templar.  
Damien knelt down next to one of the mages and found a long cut across the man’s hand. The sight of the wound wasn’t as revolting as what the wound represented. The mage was a maleficar. A blood mage. He examined another and found the same thing but with a slice across the man’s forearm.  
“We have to find that Litany. Most of these mages were blood mages,” Damien reported.  
“So, that explains this,” Lyna said as she pointed to the Templar at her feet. Damien raised an eyebrow before stepping to her side.  
The scene was truly horrifying. The man’s face was twisted in pain with hardened blood wrapped around his neck with brighter shades of dried blood staining his face.  
“I’ve never seen blood magic at work. Fenedhis lasa, halam sahlin,” Lyna snapped looking over at the demon.  
“My elvish isn’t that good. What did that mean?” Damien asked. Lyna turned back to him and smiled weakly.  
“It doesn’t have a direct translation, but I think the closest thing would be ‘damn all of this, I’m ending this now’,” Lyna answered. Damien smirked and nodded.  
“That’s my girl,” Damien said twirling his daggers and leading her further into the floor, but the moment they opened the door to the next corridor walking corpses turned to confront them.  
The creatures smelled worse than darkspawn with flesh rotting off their bodies. The magic was so strong coming from them, it made Damien a little sick to his stomach. They need to destroy these things fast or he might actually get sick.  
“And here I was thinking this might be a little too easy,” Damien said taking a quick look around the room. He spotted a familiar looking mage on the floor on the far side lying next to a massive demon. That must have been Niall. Fighting the corpses was their only option, but how do you kill something that is already dead.  
“So, what do you want to do?” Lyna asked.  
“The Litany is over there in that mage’s pocket,” Damien stated pointing with his blade at the dead body. “But I have no idea how to kill the undead.”  
“If we cut off their arms and head, they can’t fight any more,” Lyna suggested. “But I won’t be much good in that kind of fight.”  
“Just cover me. Undead or not, a shot from your bow will at least knock them over,” Damien said smiling and charging forward. He needed to attract their attention and keep them away from Lyna, but if he got swarmed, they would kill him. He would need to keep moving and strike when one became isolated.  
He slid down and hacked off a corpse’s leg as he passed before hopping to his feet and slicing off another’s head. Lucky for him, the headless creature stopped moving and collapsed. If that killed them, maybe a headshot would too.  
“Lyna, aim for their heads,” Damien ordered blocking a strike from another corpse and cutting the arm off of one that had approached him from behind. Knocking his opponent’s blade away, he sliced its head off before turning and hacking the one behind him across the chest separating the creature’s head, left shoulder, and left arm from the rest of the body.  
“Watch the floor,” Lyna shouted. Damien didn’t even look to confirm. He quickly jumped back and away from the enemy. He spotted what she was talking about. The corpse that he had subtracted a leg from in his first attack crawled across the floor like an ant.  
Damien pulled his scarf a little tighter and charged forward again. He kicked up hard under the undead on the ground sending the head flying and swiping both blades outward. He caught one corpse off guard and chopped its head off at the nose level, but the other only left a deep slash across the eyes. An arrow quickly buried itself in between the slashed eyes less than a second later sending the beast to the ground.  
“Nice shot,” Damien shouted blocking another attack, but felt a clawed hand grab the side of his face and pull him backward.  
“Damien!” Lyna screamed. Time seemed to slow down as he felt the claws dig into his skin. What could this thing be? There were no corpses behind him were there? Could it be a demon coming to reinforce its thralls?  
The claws dragged across his skin sending searing pain through his entire face and he hit the floor and spotted what had grabbed him. A hand made up completely of blood hovered over him. A blood mage had attacked him, and now their crimson creation was descending on him with lethal intent, claws ready to rip his throat out.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21  
Crimson claws descended on him as time all but stopped. He had fought guards, bandits, darkspawn, trained soldiers, demons, undead, and blood mages. He even managed to keep the number of people he killed to a minimum even while fighting for his life. Now, to have his life end at the hands of a blood mage, it honestly scared him. He hadn’t done everything he needed to do.  
Suddenly, time was moving again as an arrow cut through the hand and continued out of sight. Nice try Lyna, but arrows won’t dispel magic, Damien thought. No sooner than he had finished the sentence in his mind when the blood splashed down on him. He rolled to the side and used his tunic sleeve to wipe the blood from his eyes enough to see and found all the remaining corpses they had been fighting were crumpling to the ground. He turned to look at Lyna as she stood completely out of breath near the door before turning to look in the direction of where she had shot. On the floor with a trail of blood leading to where he had been laying was a mage with an arrow protruding from his chest. The projectile had obviously pierced his heart cutting off the magic to the corpses and the hand that was trying to kill Damien.  
“I’m not sure about the score, but I think I owe you one,” Damien said taking a small drink from his canteen and rinsing his mouth. He spat the water onto the floor before looking back to Lyna. “Or a dozen.”  
Lyna approached him slowly before throwing herself into his arms. “I can’t lose anyone else, Damien. Dread Wolf take you, don’t scare me like that,” she screamed gripping him tightly.  
Damien smiled as he stroked her hair and hugged her back. “As long as you have my back, I’m not going anywhere,” Damien said softly giving her a final embrace before jogging over to Niall’s body.  
The version of Niall in the Fade had been right. His body was already starting to decompose. He must have been stuck in the Fade for several days. It made Damien wonder if his heart might have stopped beating while Sloth had had him in his clutches. Damien found the Litany and slipped it into his bag before looking over at the demon next to Niall. He recognized the wounds in the beast’s chest as the attacks he had inflicted on Sloth in the Fade. The damage he had done to the demon in the Fade had carried over to the real world. That was good to know.  
“What do we do now?” Lyna asked.  
“I’m gonna wash my face and wait for Alistair and the others to catch up,” Damien said standing and searching through the rubble to find something to use as a wash basin.  
“But you said that we’d meet them at the stairs,” Lyna said crossing her arms.  
Damien chuckled as he pulled a small stone bowl from the rubble and set it on a chair. Pouring a decent amount of his water into the bowl, he started splashing the clean water on his face and pulled off his scarf. The dark grey cloth did not show too much of the blood, but he still wanted to try and wash the crimson color out.  
“Damien, if we don’t meet them, they might worry,” Lyna said glancing back at the door behind her leading to the next section.  
“Do you think my scarf will be safe enough here if I try to dry it?” Damien asked as he dunked the cloth in the water and started to wring out the blood.  
“Damien, will you focus for a second?” Lyna scolded.  
“Okay, okay, go and meet them. I’ll keep an eye on the door. Besides, I need to find a good place to hang this,” Damien said looking around the room.  
“By the Dread Wolf, you are hopeless,” Lyna stated before heading back the way they came.  
Damien sighed and turned back to the door leading to the rest of the tower. He had been feeling something coming from that door for the past few minutes, a presence that he could only describe as menacing.  
“Come on in, it’s rude to hide in the shadows,” Damien shouted as he hung his scarf on small hook sticking out of the wall and drawing one of his daggers.  
A young girl peeked inside before stepping in meekly. Her robes were covered in blood and partially ripped apart. He could see her staff in one hand while she held her other against her side.  
“My name is Damien, the Commander of the Grey,” Damien said trying to angle his hood down over his face since his scarf no longer covered his nose and mouth.  
“I’m Karralina, Circle mage,” the girl responded.  
Damien could see she was wounded and would most likely die very soon. She seemed to even be beyond healing magic or potions and herbalism.  
“You don’t look like you’re in very good shape,” Damien said approaching slowly.  
“Please, help me,” girl pleaded before falling to her knees. Damien had to fight the urge to rush to her aid. He could still feel that magic coming from her, tainted with blood. There was no doubting this feeling now, not after being in the tower and around Morrigan. Blood magic had such a different feel than normal magic that Damien was starting to be able to tell the difference immediately.  
Damien approached slowly as he sheathed his dagger, but drew a throwing knife from his back, hiding it in his palm. The less threatening he seemed, the closer he could get. Even if she meant him no harm, the Templars would kill her if he didn’t. Besides, there was no way that he could trust her not to attack him or his allies from behind. He knelt next to her and moved her hand so he could examine her side. As he moved her hand, he could see several fresh cuts across her palm as well as a few on her wrist.  
“I’m sorry,” Damien said softly before flipping the knife in his hand and stabbing the girl in the back of the head severing the spinal cord completely. The girl’s eyes went blank quickly as tears ran down her face. “I can’t let you live. Not after all of this,” Damien said retracting the blade and wiping it off on her robes.  
Brutality had never suited him, not even when dealing with animals, but he couldn’t help feeling horrible about the girl. She was a blood mage, but still human. He knew Morrigan was a blood mage but he put up with it for the sake of the mission. This girl, however, had been part of the rebellion. He needed to end this now. Just like Lyna said. They were ending this blood shed now. They could not afford to lose anymore mages to this pointless fight.  
000  
The last set of floors yielded very little resistance. They had even found the First Enchanter’s office where Damien had spotted a large black grimoire. When he opened it, hoping to find anything that might help them against blood mages, he found it had belonged to Flemeth. He smirked and slipped it into his bag before anyone else could see. Morrigan would be able to read through it and maybe learn some new spells. There could even be something that could help him hone his magic and defeat the Blight. Every little bit would help.  
As they made it to the 49th floor, Damien felt a horrible pressure in his chest like an ice-cold fist had started crushing his lungs and heart. There was a misery in the air that he could feel in his bones.  
“Damien, there’s something very wrong here,” Daylen said holding his hand out in front of him.  
“He’s right. I can sense a very powerful barrier made with blood magic nearby,” Neria added supporting herself with her staff.  
“In that case, Wynne, Neria, and Daylen, be ready to break through the barrier if it blocks our path to the First Enchanter. Lyna and Leliana will provide cover while Sten, Alistair, and I clear the room. This is the last obstacle before we get to the top. Let’s make this quick. I don’t know about all of you, but I’m dying for an ale,” Damien jested smiling back at the group.  
“I’m with you there, but you’re buying right?” Alistair added.  
“I’d prefer wine,” Wynne stated. Damien stopped with his mouth agape and looked back at the older woman. True, he had expected her liquor choice to be more refined, but to jump into an immature and playful conversation like that made him think she had just as much playfulness in her as serious, magical power. After a good two or three seconds of everyone staring at the elder mage, Damien couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore and let out a heartfelt, booming laugh. The others quickly joined in despite the insistent shushing from Wynne.  
“Wow Wynne, I figured you for a wine drinker but I never thought you would freely admit it,” Damien stated starting forward.  
“Keep your voice down. Uldred is right above us,” Wynne scolded.  
“Good, we can lure him down here and away from any traps he might have set and any survivors,” Damien said tapping his dagger against the wall.  
“You are six kinds of crazy,” Alistair stated getting a nod of agreement from Leliana and Lyna. Damien smiled and lowered his gaze. He had to admit, he was a little on the insane side if he really thought about it.  
“All joking aside, that barrier is going to be a problem if it’s blocking the way. From the feeling I’m getting, I’d say it’s amazingly strong,” Neria said rubbing the back of her head.  
“Well, no reason to waste time,” Damien stated jogging forward with the rest of his team hot on his trail.  
The group burst into the central chamber that held the staircase leading to the last floor and their final opponent. In the center of the room was a ring of magic encircling a lone Templar while two dozen other knights and mages lay dead around him.  
“This is the preparation chamber where we got ready for our joining,” Daylen said looking around the room.  
“Cullen!” Neria screamed trying to push past Damien to get to the barrier before them, but Damien caught her around the middle.  
“Calm down, Neria. He’s still alive and looks physically unharmed. We can’t waste any time trying to break that barrier to get him out. I promise, once Uldred is dealt with we’ll come back and save him. You have my word as the Warden Commander,” Damien said holding on tight as the girl fought to get free.  
“No, I have to… I have to… help…Cullen!” Neria screamed. Daylen jumped in front of her and hugged her tight.  
“Damien’s right Neria. Come on. Cullen will be fine. That barrier is just to keep his powers contained. We’ll break it once we finish off Uldred,” Daylen said as he stroked her hair.  
“I… I can’t… I can’t leave him… I can’t…” Neria begged gripping his sleeves and sobbing into his chest.  
“If she’s not in any shape to fight, leave her here, but I can’t spare anyone else to help keep her safe,” Damien ordered coldly. Everyone turned to look at him as he released his hold around Neria.  
“Damien, we-” Leliana started.  
“If she’s not ready to fight, she’ll just die. We’ve cleared all the other floors so the only enemies left are up there. She’s safe enough here,” Damien snapped interrupting her. He didn’t mean to sound as much like an ass as he did, but he was exhausted and pissed. They did not have the option of stopping to rest now though.  
“Although, if we kill Uldred, that should bring the barrier down,” Wynne said examining the barrier.  
Neria immediately stopped sobbing and looked over at the elder mage, her eyes puffy and red. Damien could see the light coming back to her eyes and slowly turning into a fire. Her fight was coming back to her. Revenge was apparently her trigger.  
“Let her go, Daylen. She’s ready to fight now,” Damien said smirking before turning and heading for the stairs.  
“Are you sure?” Lyna asked as he passed her.  
“Positive,” Damien responded.  
The group assembled as they passed the glowing barrier and headed up the stairs. Damien could see the Templar praying on his knees desperate for some kind of relief from his torture. He didn’t like the idea of leaving a torture victim in that hell, but they couldn’t waste the time to try and figure the barrier out.  
“Do you think Uldred knows we’re here yet?” Daylen asked as they approached the door at the top of the stairs.  
“If he doesn’t, he’s about to,” Damien announced kicking the door open and immediately charging forward, but he stopped short confronted by a horrifying scene.  
In the center of the room, a mage stood with three abominations all torturing another mage they had encircled. Blood spilled from the victim’s mouth as electricity surged through his body. Damien could see several separate pools of blood on the floor. Uldred must have been torturing the mages ever since the rebellion began. He was surprised that any of them had held out. As he continued to scan the room, he spotted no less than a dozen other abominations lining the walls guarding at least a dozen senior mages. Every one of the mages had their hands bound. Damien could feel that their power was very weak, they must have been drained of their magic power.  
“By your presence, I assume my minions have been defeated?” the mage with the abominations said stepping away from his victim. Damien reached into his pouch and handed the Litany to Wynne before stepping forward.  
“Slaughtered actually. It took almost two days but we cleared every floor except this one,” Damien stated drawing his daggers as he advanced.  
“And the Warden Commander never leaves a job unfinished,” Daylen added. Damien nodded. He liked this mage. He had a real fire in his belly that came through in how he fought. Most of the mages at Ostagar had used small motions with their staffs to send spells out to fight the darkspawn, but Daylen was far more physical. He treated his staff like a spear or a catapult arm firing spells with far more speed than Damien had ever seen. The young mage definitely had a warrior’s spirit behind his magic.  
“Just like the kid said, I always finish what I start, but I do want to know why. Why did you do this? The majority of the people you killed were fellow mages,” Damien said. He honestly didn’t care what the answer was. He just needed time for his team to spread out enough so that one massive spell wouldn’t stop them. He moved his arms and his daggers as subtly as he could trying to tell everyone to scatter.  
“To free us from the tyranny of the Chantry. Loghain promised he would let us be if I went along with his plan at Ostagar,” Uldred said smiling and laughing like a madman.  
Damien’s heart started to pound as his breath turned scorching hot in his throat. “You mean to tell me, you were part of Loghain’s betrayal at Ostagar?” Damien’s voice had turned from his usual jester tone to one that he barely recognized.  
“Now you’ve done it,.” Alistair shouted from behind him. From the direction of his voice, Damien could tell the team had done what he wanted and put space between them. That was good, now he could move in and take the fight to this traitor.  
“Done what?” Uldred taunted still laughing.  
“You shouldn’t have brought up Ostagar. You see, several of us were there. That’s a bit of a sore topic,” Alistair began, but Damien took over.  
“You left us there to die. You and that traitorous bastard, Loghain. Thousands of people are dead because of you. Now hundreds more. I won’t forget that and I don’t forgive! You will pay for killing my comrades and betraying your own. I swear it on these blades. I swear before the hour is up, I will have your throat under my blade and I will not spare you,” Damien snarled throwing off his hood. He didn’t give a damn if his enemies saw him now. None of them were going to leave this place alive. He would make doubly sure of that.  
“Bold words, but consider this,” Uldred said standing as if he was about to give a lecture, but Damien had no intention of listening. He allowed his magic to flow through every muscle and bone in his body as he shot forward directing his blade straight at Uldred. An abomination jumped in the way taking the blade straight through its chest. Damien used the momentum to somersault over the corpse and land back on his feet and he continued his charge.  
“Kill them all!” Damien roared. Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell that the team did not need to be told. They had already engaged the abominations along the perimeter.  
Damien turned and hurled his left blade into the chest of another approaching abomination before turning his right on Uldred, but as he did, Uldred’s body became enveloped in light. Damien stumbled backward using his arm to block his eyes.  
“Damien! Get out of there!” Lyna screamed as an arrow whizzed past his head.  
“That thing’s massive!” Alistair exclaimed.  
Damien moved his arm and looked back to his opponent, but instead of the mage he had formerly been fighting he found a pride demon that was twice the size of the ogre he had fought at Ostagar. Its dark magic pressed down on him even with his drained magical power. This beast was powerful.  
The creature let out a roaring laugh as electricity shot between his hands. “You don’t stand a chance against me at my full power,” Uldred’s voice boomed.   
Damien’s eyes went wide. Had that blood mage become a pride demon? Was that even possible? Damien spun his blade in his hand and drew two throwing blades from his pack. The rest of the team was fighting the abominations and defending the mages. If he didn’t take down Uldred, no one else would be safe.  
He hurled the throwing blades trying to hit the demon’s eyes but the beast slapped them away like they were nothing. Damien set his jaw and charged once more. He slid between the demon’s legs using his blade to try and slice through the beast’s legs but it did very little, only piercing the top few layers of the beast’s skin which quickly healed back up.  
Andraste’s ass, what do I have to do to kill this thing? Magic maybe? No, the demons we’ve fought so far haven’t been effected by anything that was similar to their type of magic and this beast’s skin is so thick it wouldn’t penetrate. Damien jumped to his feet and took a few steps back. He had an idea now of what to do, but it was certainly crazy. But, since when was he opposed to crazy ideas?  
“Daylen, Wynne, Neria, I need enchantments on my dagger! Any destruction magic magic enchantments you know,” Damien shouted jumping to the side to avoid Uldred’s massive arm.  
“Pride demons are immune to magic!” Daylen protested.  
“Just do it!” Damien ordered slicing through an abomination.  
He could feel magic start pouring into his dagger. First chills, then heat, then the pain of a slight electric shock flowed through his hand. He hoped it would be enough for what he had in mind.  
Sprinting around Uldred’s massive body, Damien found his way to the of the beast and put half his energy into his right arm as he hurled the dagger as hard as he could. The blade buried itself in the creature’s chest, but it did not penetrate any more than an inch or two. He shook his head and sighed.  
“This is gonna hurt,” Damien told himself putting all the energy he had into his legs and sprinting forward with everything he had. He leapt up has high as he could. Rotating his body, he managed to angle himself so that he could use his weight to accomplish his goal. His side hit the grip of the blade driving it in all the way to the hilt as Damien felt pain shoot through his body, knocking the wind from his lungs.  
He crumpled to the floor as he gasped for air. Damien tried to clear his vision as he managed to pull another throwing knife from his pack. The vibrations of Uldred collapsing were unmistakable. Oh, how he wished he could have seen that monster go down, but he was grateful the monster had not landed on top of him. He was having a hard enough time breathing already.  
“Damien! Are you alright? Damien, answer me!” Leliana screamed. He couldn’t tell where she was, but he could tell she wasn’t close. If there were any enemies close by, he would have to defend himself, but every breath felt like he was getting stabbed in the side and his vision was steadily getting darker and darker, until finally the young warden slipped from consciousness.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22  
Shaking everything around him, the dragon roared one of the most horrifying roars he had ever heard as it bore down on him with its claws and fangs. He could feel its eyes burrowing into him as he tried to turn away, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even blink or close his eyes.  
“Damien!” someone shouted from a distance.  
Who was it? He knew that voice from somewhere… some other time.  
“Where are you?” Damien asked but he still couldn’t look away from the dragon. Its eyes felt as though they would burn holes straight through his chest.  
“Damien, wake up! You’re safe, now open your eyes,” the voice ordered.  
The dragon faded into smoke as light started to return control of his vision to him. Yet as his sight came back to him, pain racked his side and labored his breathing. As his vision cleared, he could see Wynne above him as shimmering, green light emanated from her hands.  
“You are quite reckless, my dear warden,” the old woman said as another pair of hands placed a cool towel on his forehead. Damien turned to find another mage with a thick gray beard and kind, dark brown eyes.  
“You have my thanks, young man. Wynne tells me that you lead the charge to retake the tower and saved many lives in the process,” the man stated using another damp cloth to wipe the blood from his face.  
“You must be the First Enchanter. I have a proposition for you, if we’re not too late to stop the Templar attack,” Damien wheezed. The old man let out a booming laugh before smiling down at him.  
“You are certainly focused on your goal, but we will discuss it once we have completed the task at hand,” the man responded. Damien nodded as he tried to sit up, but pain shot through his entire side sending him back to the floor with a groan.  
“Don’t try to move just yet, Commander. You have several ribs broken and I am still healing them. The damage should be healed in a few hours, but the pain will remain for several days,” Wynne explained as she repositioned her hands over his injury.  
“I guess using my side to drive my dagger home wasn’t the best idea, huh?” Damien said wincing and trying to look around the room.  
“You should have used your head,” Alistair stated appearing over him.  
“I feel like I shouldn’t respond to that statement,” Damien replied.  
“Why is that?” Wynne asked.  
“Using my head could mean both thinking about the situation… or, the more likely idea that popped into blondie’s mind, using my head like a hammer instead of my side,” Damien responded before turning his attention back to Alistair. “Sorry brother, one crack in my skull is enough for me.”  
“I might give you another one myself,” Lyna stated. Damien saw a fresh bandage around her wrist that she tried to hide.  
“Not with that hand,” Damien stated nodding toward her injury. “What happened?”  
“Abomination. It managed to get close enough to grab me,” she answered producing her injured hand.  
“Anyone else hurt?”  
“A few scarpes and bruises but nothing too serious. Leliana got slashed across her back but only barely made it through the armor. Sten had a broken finger and a couple cuts, but he told us not to worry about it, then there’s this pretty boy who managed to escape without a scratch,” Lyna stated shoving Alistair with her good hand.  
“What about our friends from the Circle?” Damien inquired looking over at Wynne.  
“Only fatigued, my boy. Nothing to worry about. As you can see, I’m no spring chicken,” Wynne stated.  
“Don’t give me that. You’ve still got some life in those old bones,” Damien replied smiling. “What about Neria and Daylen?”  
“Neria is fine, not a scratch. Daylen injured his ankle when an abomination managed to knock him back, but Neria healed it up. He’ll be limping for a few days but he’ll be fine,” Alistair reported.  
“Alright then, Alistair help me up. Lyna, pack ‘em up and move ‘em out,” Damien ordered. Wynne started to protest but Damien raised his hand. “Before we do anymore treatments, we get to the gate and stop the Templars from invoking the Right of Annulment.”  
“As much as I know it will hurt him, I agree with the assessment of our rescuer. Gather everyone together, Wynne, and bring them to the first floor,” the First Enchanter ordered. Wynne nodded as Alistair helped get Damien to his feet, looping the opposite arm from his injury over his shoulder to help support him.  
“What? You’re not going to carry me?” Damien asked with a smirk.  
“Well, I would, but then your new admirers would get jealous,” Alistair stated motioning to the mages and their team around them who were all saluting him as they passed. Damien hung his head, wincing as he reached up and pulled his hood up to hide his face once more.  
“A little late for that, isn’t it?” Lyna asked.  
“It’s never too late to conceal yourself. The less time someone has to see your features, the less time they have to remember them,” Damien stated as all the occupants of the room formed a line behind them.  
As they made their way down the stairs, Damien spotted Neria and Daylen standing over the Templar that had been imprisoned in the barrier. Uldred’s death must have brought it down.  
“No, I won’t listen to your lies,” the man protested.  
“Cullen, please,” Neria pleaded reaching out for the man, but Cullen slapped her hand away.  
“How deep you beasts must have delved into my mind? Why? Why must you show me her?” Cullen screamed.  
“Enough!” Damien shouted as Alistair helped him over to the trio, though Damien did regret raising his voice as the vibration sent a fresh wave of pain radiating through his chest and side. He was sure the Templar would lose his temper and possibly hurt someone if he did not interfere. “Calm yourself, Templar. The rebellion has been silenced. Return with us to the first floor.” Damien motioned for Lyna to come closer as the Templar covered his ears again.  
“No! You will not trick me! Be gone!” Cullen roared.  
“If he doesn’t calm down, subdue him… gently,” Damien whispered to Lyna. She nodded and circled around behind the Templar.  
“Still here? But that usually works,” Cullen cried panicking.  
“Because this is reality. Now calm down,” Damien said groaning as his ribs protested his speaking once more. “Join the line. If you need healing or help, I’m sure Neria would volunteer.”  
“Damien, I don’t know if having a mage help him is a good idea,” Daylen protested.  
“I know, but the rest of us are too tired or injured. Keep an eye on them, but keep your distance. If he tries anything, subdue him,” Damien whispered.  
“Right,” Daylen answered as Neria looped Cullen’s arm over her shoulder. Lyna stepped back to Damien’s side as the line of survivors made their way down the stairs. She smiled knowingly, but all that did was confuse Damien a bit more.  
“What?” he asked gripping his side.  
“You’re helping out Neria with this more than that Templar and you know that. Very romantic,” Lyna whispered.  
“Whatever. Look, I’m in pain and walking down stairs hurts even more, so let’s get this over with,” Damien said letting Alistair lead him back into line. Lyna smiled and ran ahead making her way down stairs.  
“You have a romantic side?” Alistair asked.  
“Oh, shut up. If I do, that’s news to me,” Damien replied.  
Each step hurt more than the last but he kept moving. He tried to keep an eye on the line of mages, but his vision kept blurring on him. Maybe he should have let Wynne heal him a little more before headed down. They made it down a few more floors when Lyna reappeared. She smiled and held out his scarf to him.  
“It’s dried now,” she said holding it out to him. He smiled and looped the scarf around his neck.  
“Thanks,” Damien replied. It felt good to have his scarf back on again. He had to admit he felt better with the scarf on. He lifted the scarf up over his nose and mouth and nodded his thanks to Lyna again.  
000  
After a long and painful climb down the stairs, Damien found himself among the survivors on the first floor. The children and survivors Damien and his group had found throughout the tower numbered nearly 200 people, but with only a few dozen who were battle ready. Even if he managed to get the mages on board with rebuilding the army, they would not have the manpower he was hoping for from them.  
“Just set me down here. I need to rest. Alistair, Lyna, go with the First Enchanter to get the Templars to stand down. Once that’s done, ask the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter to come and speak with me,” Damien said as Alistair set him down against one of the pillars.  
“No problem, but do we need to keep our affiliation secret?” Alistair asked.  
“Yes, they don’t need to know. As much as I want to trust our allies, I don’t want word leaking to Loghain,” Damien explained.  
“What are you two talking about?” Lyna asked.  
“It’s nothing,” Damien said motioning for Alistair to come closer. “Make sure she keeps it under wraps.”  
Alistair nodded his understanding and waved for Lyna to follow him as they joined Irving and headed for the main entrance.   
Wynne made her way over to the Warden as he watched the tearful reunions between the survivors. She knelt down next to Damien and started to heal him again as he leaned back and tried to relax as much as possible.  
“You did a good job,” Wynne said smiling.  
“Thanks, I guess, but I was really only here to recruit for the army,” Damien replied wincing as his ribs shifted slightly.  
“Yes, but you placed the wellbeing of the mages as your primary goal, but still fought your way through the entire tower. I am genuinely impressed with you, Warden Commander,” Wynne stated.  
“Excuse me,” Daylen said approaching them.  
“What’s going on? Did something happen with that Templar?” Damien asked starting to get up, but he was quickly pulled back down my Wynne, much to his discomfort.  
“No, nothing like that. I was just wondering if I was any help to you?” Daylen asked sitting down in front of Damien with his staff across his lap.  
“Andraste’s knickers! That’s what you’re worried about? Yes, you were a big help. There was a reason I came to the Circle for help first out of all the other places I could have gone. I never thought that this is what I’d find but, hey, my mission is still pretty much a success,” Damien replied.  
“Then, if I could, I was wanting to join your group and travel with you,” Daylen said bowing his head.  
Damien smiled and glanced over at Wynne before looking back at the young mage. “I’ll tell you what, convince Wynne and Neria to come with us too, then you’re in,” Damien groaned as Wynne continued to heal his wound.  
“Sure, I can do that,” Daylen said looking over at Wynne. Damien could see that he was slightly disappointed with the answer.  
“Relax kid. You’re extremely powerful and talented. I was actually hoping to recruit you to the Wardens if we both make it through this Blight,” Damien reassured him giving the youth a pat on the shoulder. “The reason I’m asking for you to get Neria and Wynne to come along is so we can have some talented healers.”  
“I suppose I should take that as a compliment,” Wynne said lifting his arm causing the warden to groan in pain once more.  
“You should. The mage that’s with us now is not very skilled with healing magic. Besides, I’ve seen wolves with better bedside manners,” Damien stated as a shiver ran up his spine. He couldn’t help but be nervous with how Morrigan would treat him and his wound.  
Wynne smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t believe that you would want someone like me in the Wardens, but I would very much like to join you group,” she said smiling.  
“Well, then that solves part of the problem. How about you try to get Neria on board too,” Damien said smiling. Daylen grinned and nodded before making his way over to the other large group of survivors.  
Damien smirked and closed his eyes. He might call Daylen ‘kid’ but he wasn’t that much younger than him. At least he didn’t look like it. Though come to think of it, Damien wasn’t really all that sure how old he was now. He had lived in Highever for a solid few years, traveled all over Fereldan, and had seen his fair share of tough winters and harsh summers. If he really thought about it, and assumed that the first memory he had was from when he was 3 or 4, he must have been in his late twenties by now. Daylen did not look more than a day out of his teens.  
“What’s on your mind?” Wynne asked. Damien looked back over at his nurse and sighed.  
“Nothing, just thinking. Trying to figure some things out,” Damien responded.  
“I would be more than willing to offer council if you would like,” Wynne offered.  
“I guess I’m still trying to figure out if I can really pull this off. Everyone is looking to me to be a leader, but I’m flying by the seat of my pants here. In battle, it’s easy enough to keep my focus, but with all this political stuff and making decisions… I’m not sure if I can do it,” Damien replied. He felt a little better just getting his concerns out in the open. No matter what her reply was, at least that weight was off his chest.  
“You have a good head on your shoulders, young man. Don’t you forget that. Keep your goals in mind in every decision and I am sure you will make the right call, be it political or strategic. Military strategy and politics are not that different after all,” Wynne stated as she finished his treatment. The pain was still intense but it did not hurt near as much to breathe anymore, and that was certainly an improvement.  
“So how long will I be laid up with this?” Damien asked placing his palm over his injury.  
“With proper care and rest with a few poultices, I’d say three days to get you back in battle ready condition,” Wynne said handing him a small red vial. Damien held it up a little higher to examine it before looking back to the mage. “Apply that before bed every night. It will help you sleep and quiet some of the pain.”  
Damien nodded and groaned as he tried to get to his feet, but slid back down realizing his energy was completely spent. He surprised himself with the fact that he was still awake at all. Sten quickly stepped up and knelt in front of him.  
“I am unsure of you,” the qunari said bluntly.  
“What about me makes you unsure?” Damien said slipping the vial into his pocket and used the pillar behind him to push himself back up onto his feet.  
“I have heard stories of the Gray Wardens. They say you are strong warrior. That you fight the Blight, but thus far, I am unimpressed,” Sten said crossing his arms.  
“Sten, you might think you can take on an army of darkspawn alone, but I know for a fact that I can’t. We need an army and these mages are the first step. You told me you were a soldier and that you would follow me, right?” Damien snarled keeping his hand over his side trying to keep the pain from causing him to pause.  
“Correct.”  
“Then shut up and fall in, soldier. Do I make myself clear? I’m not here to impress you,” Damien snapped. He hoped a more forceful approach with the qunari would convince the warrior to stop questioning him. Damien was doing enough of that to himself as it was.  
“I look forward to seeing what you are here for,” Sten responded standing and making his way across the room to the opposite wall.  
Damien took a slow breath trying to calm himself down, only to wince once more as his side protested. He had to calm himself down so he could deal with the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter with a clear head. He started making his way over toward the front door as it opened revealing the two heads of the Circle Tower.   
“To be perfectly honest, I had my doubts when you said you would clear the tower,” Greagoir said as Damien approached.  
“Great to hear it,” Damien said smiling eliciting a chuckle from the First Enchanter. “Knight-Commander Greagoir, you promised your support for the Blight and the mages are obligated through the treaty. However, First Enchanter Irving, I have no intention of forcing the issue especially after all this. That being said, we do need help from both Templars and mages.”  
“I can understand your situation, Warden Commander, but with the amount of men I lost in this incident, our focus must be on performing our duties to oversee the mages. They are free to help you,” Greagoir said motioning to Irving.  
“And we pledge all the support we can muster. There are several groups that are researching sites and artifacts all across Fereldan. I will summon them back to the tower,” Irving stated.  
“How many mages do you think will be able to fight?” Damien asked.  
“Conservatively I would guess a hundred, but we will supply all the surviving tranquil to enchant weapons and armor,” Irving stated.  
“That would be a great help. Commander Greagoir, I understand that you have your duty to think about, but I do believe that since the mages have pledged their support, you should at least send a company of Templars with them to help counter the magic the darkspawn use,” Damien said wincing again as his side ached with each word.  
“I can understand your desire for the advantage, but with the manpower that we have, I’m afraid that is unlikely,” Greagoir stated.  
“I understand, but if those reinforcements you sent for arrive and you are able to spare a few to join us, please do so,” Damien said extending his hand. The Templar was stubborn and far too focused on his obligation to the Chantry, but getting him to promise the possibility of help would be enough, then later on he could convince him to send his troops with them to keep an eye on the mages that would be in the battle. His instincts told him not to play that card yet and hope the Knight Commander came up with the idea himself.  
Greagoir nodded and shook his hand. Damien spotted the First Enchanter with a knowing smile in his face. He wondered if the mage knew what he was planning. He did seem a little too clever for his own good.  
“On top of recruiting, I have three mages that have asked for my permission to join my team. I would like you to give your permission to allow them to leave with me,” Damien said turning to face Irving.  
“I see. I suppose that the three you speak of are the three that helped you clear the tower?” Irving asked.  
“That is correct. On top of allowing them to join my team, I also want to inform you that once the Blight is over, I plan on having at least Daylen Amell join the Grey Wardens. Possibly Neria Surana as well, but I’m not sure about her yet,” Damien said.  
“Of course. As I understand it, you might be the last Grey Warden in Fereldan. It only makes sense for you to replenish your numbers,” Irving stated still smiling.  
“Then I have your blessing?” Damien asked.  
“That you do, my young friend. That you do,” Irving responded shaking Damien’s hand.   
Perfect, not only did he have the full support of the mages, but a pending promise of support from the Templars too. Not to mention three talented and powerful mages to come with him on his journey.  
Damien nodded to the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter before turning and heading back toward the main area where all the survivors were huddled. Alistair and Lyna were at his side almost instantly as Alistair returned to being his crutch.  
“Gather everyone up. We head for the Spoiled Princess in ten minutes. Make sure our new members get the message,” Damien said giving Alistair a small push forward before propping himself up against the wall.  
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Alistair asked.  
“No, I’m dying,” Damien mocked sarcastically. “Seriously, I’m fine. Round everyone up. I’ll head for the docks. I’m sure the rest of you can catch up in no time.” Damien smirked before turning away and slowing hobbling toward the exit. He was so looking forward to that warm bed at the Spoiled Princess. He would take a night or two to help him and the rest of his team recover before moving out again. Maker knew they all needed a good night’s rest after this ordeal.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23  
Damien felt sick to his stomach as the boat rocked back and forth. The lake felt rougher on the return trip than the first crossing and his injury was not making it any easier to take. Leliana sat next to him and kept eyeing him as he tried not to lose his lunch.   
“You may lay down if that would help,” she said patting her lap.  
“I’m fine. Just having some trouble with the waves,” Damien said. He wondered just what the girl was trying to pull. He knew she was still keeping secrets, but then again, so was he. All of them had their own secrets and things they didn’t talk about with everyone else.   
Damien shook his head and closed his eyes trying to keep his stomach level and the ribs from robbing him of his breath. He didn’t have time to think about that kind of stuff right now. Besides, Leliana had more than proven herself in the Tower. Any doubts about her loyalty to the group were laid to rest but he still had doubts about her past. Could any secrets harm them in the long run? What if his past came back to haunt him, or maybe someone else’s past could cause the group problems while they were on the road?  
Trying to force his mind to clear, Damien dipped his hand over the side of the boat and scooped up some of the cold water, rubbing his face down with it. He wondered how Kallian was healing up or if Morrigan had killed her out of annoyance. Hopefully Alyssa would have kept that from happening. Of course, if anything had gone wrong, they always had Brax. Although the more he thought about it, the more worried he became about the status of his comrades.  
The boat pulled up to the dock gently and Alistair helped Damien out of his seat followed closely by the others. They were exhausted to say the least.  
“I don’t know about you, but a hot bath sound pretty damned good to me,” Damien said heading for the tavern.  
“Knowing you, you’d soak ‘til it got cold,” Alistair shouted.  
“Knowing you, you’d piss in it to warm it up again,” Damien retorted. Alistair gave him a small shove as the group laughed.  
The group made their way up the embankment and toward the tavern where Damien spotted the big mabari sitting next to Alyssa outside the door.  
“It’s good to see you. I’m glad you made it back,” Alyssa said waving to greet them.  
“We are too,” Damien said patting Brax on the head. The dog sniffed at him for a moment before nuzzling at his side with his nose and licking at his injury. “I’m alright Brax. Just need some rest and a hot bath.”  
“What happened?” Alyssa asked looking over at the other Wardens.  
“Turns out the tower was in the middle of a rebellion of sorts. Damien volunteered to help clear the tower of demons and abominations in return for the mages and Templars’ help against the Blight. Mages agreed and sent three of their people with us. The Templars said that since the mages are still around, their duty comes first,” Lyna explained quickly.  
“And what happened to him?” Alyssa asked pointing to Damien’s side.  
“I used my ribs as a hammer to kill a mage who had turned into a pride demon,” Damien responded. Alyssa looked over at the others with a confused and downright puzzled look as the entire group nodded assuring her that he was telling the truth.  
“Did you think that was a good idea?” Alyssa asked as Damien pushed open the door to the tavern.  
“At the time… no. But that was all I could do to end the fight,” Damien confessed heading inside.  
The tavern was emptier than when they had left. He wondered if his arrival might have had something to do with that. But now was not the time to think about the movement of the Fereldan people. He needed rest so his ribs would finish healing, not to mention he was covered in dried blood from head to toe and smelled like death on a campfire.  
“My friend,” Damien announced loudly leaning on the bar and looking across at the barkeep. “I need a room with a hot bath. Hot being the key word.”  
“Sure thing, that will cost you two silvers for the night. Thirty coppers for the bath,” the man said grabbing a key from the shelf.  
“How about a sovereign for two nights, a hot bath, and five full meals for me and my friends,” Damien said pulling the gold coin out of his pouch.  
“Deal,” the barkeep said accepting the coin.  
“Make yourselves comfortable people. We’re gonna be here for a couple days until our wounded are back on their feet. Wynne, I want you to go a see a wounded member that was not with us on the mission. Her name is Kallian Tabris. Do what you can for her. Alyssa, show her the way,” Damien said turning back to his group. “Daylen keep an eye on that ankle and take my spot in the rounds for look out. Lyna explain the rotation to him. Neria and Alistair, once I’m finished bathing, I want to talk to the pair of you. Sten and Leliana, grab fresh clothes for everyone from the cart and make sure the horse is alright. We’ll need to be ready to travel the day after tomorrow.”  
The team moved with their assignments as Damien hobbled up the stairs to his room. It was much larger than he would have expected and was right next door to what he believed was Kallian’s room. He decided it would be good to check on her before tending to himself.  
“Kallian, are you decent?” Damien asked.  
“Um… yes…” Kallian responded. Damien opened the door to find Kallian laying on her bed as Morrigan rubbed a poultice on her shoulder.  
“How are you feeling?” Damien asked glancing over to the other side of the room where Wynne and Alyssa were standing.  
“Very lucky to have a new caretaker,” Kallian responded causing Damien to smirk as Morrigan scoffed.  
“Glad to hear that,” Damien responded glancing over at Morrigan. She did not seem to be too upset by being replaced by Wynne as the caregiver.  
“Actually, your friend has done a fine job of healing Miss Tabris’ wounds. She shouldn’t need any more than a few more days of rest to be back at fighting strength,” Wynne stated stepping to Kallian’s side and examining the elf’s body.  
“Excellent. In that case, take it easy for a bit longer and once we’re both back to full strength, I want a sparring match,” Damien said turning to leave.  
“You’re on!” Kallian shouted after him as he headed over to his door and quickly ducked inside.   
The pain in his side was starting to ache even more as he stripped his armor and clothing. The bruising had certainly lightened and the minor cuts had all but healed leaving only reddened skin behind.  
“I might have overdone it,” Damien said laying down on his bed in nothing but his small clothes. It might have been a wooden bench with some straw and a sheet, but it might as well have been a cloud after everything they had been through.  
Closing his eyes, Damien started running through maps in his head trying to figure out where they needed to head next. He would love to find a tribe of Dalish elves to recruit next but he had no idea where to go to find them. Maybe the dwarves at Orzammar, but he had heard that the politics of the dwarves was involved and complicated to say the least. So then, Redcliffe? But they heard from the knight in Lothering that the arl was sick. Maybe he should head there with Wynne and Neria to see if they could heal him.  
“Excuse me, sir,” a voice called from outside startling him out of his thoughts.  
“Yes, what is it?” Damien asked sitting up suddenly but falling back down on the bed as his side released a shockwave of pain though his entire torso in response to his movement.  
“We’ve brought the water for your bath, sir,” the voice announced.  
“Oh right, come in,” Damien responded as he sat up slowly and slipped his tunic on once more. The door opened and a basin was rolled in with several buckets of steaming water.  
Damien waited for the tub to be filled and for the innkeeper and his help to leave. He closed the door and locked it behind them before stripping and lowering himself into the tub. The hot water felt good on his skin as he acclimatized to the temperature. He made sure to scrub out his hair and wash the blood that had been stuck there for most of the day. He sighed as he leaned back and relaxed in the water.  
Redcliffe, Orzammar, or trying to find the Dalish? He would need to decide soon but where? There was no way to know for sure what they needed to do. How was he supposed to figure out what path to take?  
If they went to Redcliffe, they might be able to cure Arl Eamon of his illness and gain an ally against both Loghain and the Blight. But, if Arl Eamon did join them, could his forces hold out against Loghain until the Blight was deated?  
Orzammar, from what he had heard during his travels, would never get involved with a civil war in Fereldan. They had too many domestic issues of their own. That being said, for training to fight darkspawn, there really wasn’t a better place to go. The dwarves were constantly fighting the darkspawn in the Deep Roads. Surely, they could learn different techniques and strategies for dealing with darkspawn from them.  
To be perfectly honest with himself, he had no idea of how to even find the Dalish to begin with. Lyna said her clan had moved north so they were most likely out of their reach by now, but maybe she would know where another clan was, or at least a general location. But would they even agree to meet with him since he was a human?  
“Damian? Can I come in?” Alistair asked.  
“You can try but the door’s locked,” Damien responded standing and grabbing a towel.  
“You said you wanted to talk to Neria and I, right?” Alistair asked.  
“After I’m done bathing, you dolt,” Damien exclaimed as he dried off.  
“Well, how was I supposed to know you weren’t done bathing yet?” Alistair shouted back.  
“Oh, shut up and give me a second,” Damien said wrapping the towel around his waist and unlocking the door.  
“Aren’t you a little cold?” Alistair asked as Neria lowered her head and covered her eyes. Damien chuckled as he looked down at himself. His chest bore several scars from fights and falls in the past. His back was covered with stripes from his time imprisoned in Fort Drakkon.  
“A little but my clothes need to be washed so the towel will do until I can get some more. Now, Neria, I know that the only reason you came with us was because Daylen asked you to, but I was very impressed with your healing ability in the tower. I’ll be counting on you during the coming engagements,” Damien said placing a hand on her shoulder.  
“Thank you, sir,” she responded meekly.  
“Drop the ‘sir’ okay. We’re all friends here. Just call me Damien,” the warden replied. “Now, if you could double check on everyone in the group and make sure they are alright or at least on the mend, that would really help me out.”  
Neria nodded quickly before making her way back down the stairs. Damien motioned for Alistair to come inside as he took a small wash bowl and started to wash his small clothes and tunic.  
“Was that all you wanted to talk to her about?” Alistair asked.  
Damien smirked as he continued to work. “Actually, I wanted to give her confidence a boost. She’s a little timid for our kind of work and her reaction to that Templar’s remarks make me worry about her in battle, but I think we can condition her to be a solid healer while in battle,” Damien confessed smiling over at his friend.  
“You always have something up your sleeve, don’t you? Remind me never to play Wicked Grace with you,” Alistair stated.  
Damien finished up washing his laundry and hung them by the small stove so they could dry before sitting down on the bed. As much as everyone looked to him for leadership, he still wanted to talk about their possible courses of action with someone. Alistair being the Senior Warden was a decent choice, but he had said that he was no good at making decisions. Maybe he should call Lyna and Alyssa in as well and get their thoughts as well.  
“Alright, once everyone has finished settling in, I want Alyssa, Lyna, and you to come up here so we can discuss the next move,” Damien ordered.  
“Sure thing, but why discuss it? You’re our commander, you should decide,” Alistair stated.  
“Because I’ve got reasons to head to all three locations next as well as some drawbacks. I need my fellow Wardens to help me iron out the details and think of anything I might not have considered yet,” Damien said wringing out his tunic and hanging it next to his small clothes.  
“Fine, but you might want to put on something more than a towel before we come in. I’ll go grab some clothes for you from the cart,” Alistair said heading back out the door.  
“Thanks Alistair,” Damien called after him as he closed the door. He wanted to start cleaning his armor too but that would take a lot longer. It would be best to clean that in the morning after a good night’s sleep, as long as that damned archdemon left him alone.  
Damien placed his hand over his ribs and sat down on his bed. Alistair wasn’t gone for more than a minute when he tossed the clothes in to Damien and headed off to find their comrades.  
Dressing quickly Damien took a seat on the floor with his back against the wall. Having something to lean back against helped relax him more for some reason.  
“Are you ready for us?” Alistair asked.  
“Yeah, come on in,” Damien answered.  
The others came in and settled themselves around the room. It was obvious that they were tired, but he really needed to figure out their next move. Without their opinions, he was not sure he could make the right decision.  
“So, what's going on?” Alyssa asked.  
“Actually, I wanted to get everyone's opinion. I've been trying to decide where to head to next, but I'm unsure. We've got three options and I want everyone honest opinion on all three,” Damien answered.  
“Before we get into that, I think we need to talk about something else,” Lyna stated crossing her arms.  
“And what might that be?” Damien replied cocking his head to the side. He wondered just what the girl was thinking. Maybe she wanted to scold him for getting hurt in the tower, or maybe she had an issue with one of his decisions in combat.  
“Alistair stopped me from introducing myself as a Warden to the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter. I can only assume that was because you told him to,” Lyna stated accusingly.  
Damien sighed and glanced over at Alistair. He could only assume that the former Templar was not subtle in his way of stopping her which drew her attention. There was no way that Lyna and Alyssa would be alright with him taking on all the danger of assassination and specific targeting, but he had to keep them safe.  
“True, I told him to keep your association secret. Please understand, we're not just fighting darkspawn here. We're in a tricky situation. The kingdom that we are supposed to be fighting alongside to defeat the Blight has turned against us. But even though that is the case, we can't fight back because we don't have an army. And even once we do gather loyal forces, we have to use them against the Blight, not Fereldan. I assumed that Loghain might continue to target any surviving Grey Wardens from Ostagar so I have been telling everyone that I was the lone survivor,” Damien explained.  
“To keep Loghain from targeting us, right?” Alyssa asked.  
“That's right. To protect the very existence of the Wardens, we need to make sure that our true numbers remain hidden at all costs,” Damien explained. “If I were to be killed, we have to make sure that there would still be someone to continue the fight.”  
“Who would take command after you? None of us could,” Alistair exclaimed.  
“You, Senior Warden. I know you have the potential to be a leader and when you are ready, I'm planning on handing you this particular monkey on my back,” Damien said smirking.  
“Very funny. I guess we could just make sure no assassins get close enough to attack you,” Alistair remarked.  
“Sounds like a plan. So from now on, make sure that if anyone asks, I'm the only survivor of the Grey Wardens from Ostagar,” Damien said looking around the room at each of his comrades.  
“If that is your order,” Lyna said reluctantly.  
“Just promise us you're not going to be too reckless,” Alyssa added.  
“This is me we're talking about,” Damien said grinning.  
“Exactly what I mean,” Alyssa retorted.  
Damien laughed and nodded his agreement before resettling against the wall. He knew they still did not like that he was taking this kind of risk with his own life, but he would never intentionally put them directly in harm's way without a very good and compelling reason.  
“Now that we've settled that, how about we get back to what I actually called you here for,” Damien said looking between his three comrades once more. They smiled and nodded their approval.  
“Where to go next right?” Lyna asked.  
“We've got three options. One, we try to find a Dalish clan that has a large network of connections. Two, we head to Redcliffe and see about curing Arl Eamon with Neria and Wynne's magic. Three, we head to Orzammar. I've got my reasons for each, but I want to hear your thoughts before I tell you mine,” Damien said crossing his arms.  
“I suggest Redcliffe first. Arl Eamon would be invaluable to us not only against the Blight but against Loghain too,” Alistair said.  
“True, and we know exactly where he is,” Alyssa added.  
“But so does Loghain. We already saw the lengths that he was willing to go to at the Circle Tower. Don't you think he might have a plan to deal with Arl Eamon if he did recover,” Lyna stated pinching her lip as she thought.  
“But if we don't act fast enough, we could lose Arl Eamon completely,” Alistair said in a near panic.  
“We don't even know how sick he is yet,” Lyna argued.  
“If it was nothing too terrible, then magic would have solved it, but I keep hearing stories from merchants and refugees saying that they have run into Redcliffe knights searching for the Urn of Sacred Ashes,” Alyssa reported.  
“That sounds ominous,” Lyna remarked looking thoroughly confused.  
“The Urn of Sacred Ashes is said to hold the ashes of Andraste herself. Legend says that the ashes can heal any wound or ailment,” Alistair said softly.  
“Then, they are looking for a miracle because most likely nothing else is working,” Lyna said looking around. All of them slowly turned to Damien.  
“It sounds to me that we are deciding on whether or not to go to Redcliffe at all. If Arl Eamon is sick enough that the knights are looking for a lost miracle cure, then healing magic is going to do less than nothing. However, consider the current events. The Circle Tower was in no way able to send help to Redcliffe even if asked. Maybe they are looking for a miracle because magic was unavailable,” Damien suggested.  
“It sounds like we should head to Redcliffe and investigate to be on the safe side,” Alyssa suggested.  
“I'm on the verge of being convinced, but I want everyone to give me a definite yes or no in regards to going,” Damien responded. “So, all those in favor of heading for Redcliffe day after tomorrow, raise your hand.”  
Alistair hand immediately shot up. Alyssa nodded and raised her hand as well. Lyna sat quietly for a moment before sighing and raising her hand. Damien nodded and stood slowly.  
“Alright then, Redcliffe it is. Once we get there, we'll investigate the situation discreetly then decide what to do from there,” Damien ordered. “Now go get some rest and keep an eye on our new friends. I think they are alright, but I'm worried the fight in the tower might have them in a fragile state.”  
“You got it, commander,” Alyssa said as the trio filed out of the room.  
“Good night Damien,” Lyna said as she closed the door behind her.  
“Good night.” He hoped it would be. Maker only knew how much actual rest he would get with that damned dragon roaring in his ear all night. Although at the moment, he was a little more concerned about Alistair. He seemed so eager to go to Redcliffe. He wondered if the former templar might have a connection to the village or maybe even the Arl.  
He shook his head and sat down on the bed grabbing a pen and parchment from his bag. He wanted to write to Bethany and let her know he was okay. He hoped the Hawkes were alright. He had heard a while back that crossing the Waking Sea was treacherous and should only be attempted out of pure desperation.  
Putting the pen to paper, he told Bethany how they had rallied more supporters and had the support of the mages now but how he was afraid of making a mistake. Maker he wanted to talk to her face to face. Just thinking about her made him relax a bit and the thought of her reading the letter in the future made him smile. He continued saying that he missed her and hoped she was doing well. He made a point to ask about Lillian and Carver too, plus Leandra. He ended the letter by telling her to send any reply to the Spoiled Princess before sealing it and addressing it. He had a feeling that the Spoiled Princess might be the best place since it was along the way to most of their locations. After all, it was only five days from Redcliffe on foot, two by boat without wind. Not to mention only 4 days from the entrance to Orzammar depending on weather. It wouldn't be too far off to say that the tavern as as good of a place as any to set up some kind of rally point of him and his comrades. He'd make sure to bring that up with them in the morning.  
Damien set the letter next to his bed and blew out the candle before pulling a blanket over himself and dozing off into his darkspawn-filled dreams.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24  
Damien woke with a start as the dragon's roar echoed in his ears as was the usual now. Out of all the things that he had thought would wake him up in the morning, an archdemon was second to last on his list, just above the queen herself. He groaned as his body complained about rising from the bed as did his mind. As much as he did not want to get up, there things he needed to see to. He turned his feet out of bed and let out a large yawn before standing and starting to get dressed. His ribs were still sore but he could move easily and without much pain. Wynne really did know her stuff when it came to healing and protective magic. Maybe he could get her to enchant everyone's armor... or he could ask Sandal to do it. He still had a hard time believing what a diverse group had gathered around him: a qunari warrior, a mysterious Chantry sister, two dwarven merchants, three Circle mages, an apostate, a city elf accused of murder, a recently orphaned noble, a former templar, an outcast Dalish huntress, and their apostate/ thief leader. Here's hoping that when historians recorded accounts of the Blight, they tell the complete truth, otherwise no one would ever believe it.  
“Damien, are you awake?” Morrigan asked opening the door.  
“Much to my displeasure,” Damien confirmed as he laced up his armor and strapped on his weapons.  
“You should rest until you have completely healed,” she scolded. Damien shook his head as he lay his hood over his hair and lifted his scarf over his nose and mouth.  
“I promise I'll leave the heavy lifting and difficult chores to Alistair,” Damien said placing one hand on his chest and lifting the other. Morrigan smirked. She really enjoyed torturing the former templar. Damien couldn't blame her. Before he got to know his fellow Warden, he had kept his distance simply because of the templar ring he wore. Now, it was simply good-natured fun to tease the man, well at least it was for him. Morrigan might have enjoyed it simply because she got to pick on the former templar.  
“As you wish,” Morrigan replied as Damien held the door open for her.  
They made their way down stairs to find Alistair passed out on a table with Alyssa asleep across from him. Lyna sat at the head of the table shoveling scrambled eggs into her mouth hungrily. Damien smiled and waved the innkeeper over. Morrigan made her way out the door leaving the wardens to their meals and conversation.  
“I'll take two plates of whatever you have for breakfast,” Damien said sitting down at the opposite end of the table from Lyna. He glanced at the other two before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.  
“So, what happened to them?” Damien asked.  
“Well, Alistair made the mistake of saying that since he had been a Warden longer, he could hold his liquor better,” Lyna explained as she washed down her meal with some water.  
“Fantastic. They're going to have such hang overs,” Damien said rubbing his head.  
“Although, Alyssa did say some interesting things last night,” Lyna said setting aside her dishes. Damien could see there was something behind the young elf's eyes when she said it. There was something bothering her about whatever it was that Alyssa had said.  
“Let me guess. She thought Alistair was cute or something? She was drunk. Horrible taste but drunkenness can cloud anyone's vision,” Damien said as the innkeeper set two full plates of eggs, toast, sausage and ham. Damien's eyes widened as his stomach roared with anticipation.  
“Not far off actually. Tell me, Commander. You said that we would travel after this Blight is over. To go and find my clan, but what then? Do you have plans for after that?” Lyna asked.  
“Of course. I may not be a Commander after the Blight, but I'm still a Warden. I think traveling across Thedas looking for recruits would suit me just fine,” Damien said making a tall sandwich out of the entire plate of food between two pieces of toast.  
“No thoughts of settling down and having a family?” she asked.  
“Not really. I mean, compared to most men of marrying age, I'm old. Probably close to ten years older. Besides, if I do survive this Blight, and I'm not certain I will, I'm only going to have a couple decades left before the taint kills me. I really don't want to father a child and leave them alone when I die. That's not fair to them or the woman who bore them,” Damien said taking a bit of his meal. He had not thought about having a family before, but he did not want to leave a child without their parent like he had been. Besides, who would even want to have a child with a man who had spent his youth living on the streets and stealing to survive.  
“I guess that makes sense. But you should really consider staying the Commander. I mean, Duncan did a lot of traveling and recruiting himself so that would not limit you,” Lyna suggested and Damien chowed down on his meal. The youth looked up at his companion and swallowed down his food.  
“Could you really see me commanding the Grey Wardens of Fereldan. I mean, I'm a thief and an apostate. You can't get much worse as far as a moral background goes. Someone who started out as a knight or a noble would probably be better,” Damien responded.  
“At least think about it. I know of at least three Wardens who would follow you to the depths of Hell if you asked,” Lyna said standing and heading for the door.  
“Considering all the things that are going wrong around us, I'm pretty sure I've already led you there,” Damien said as she walked past him.  
“And here we all are, still following you, proudly,” the elf said before slipping out the door.  
Damien sighed as he finished off his first plate of food. If there was one thing he knew for sure, the rumors about the Grey Wardens' appetites were completely true. He used to be able to last nearly three weeks without food as long as he had water, but now he ate three large meals everyday and normally still felt hungry afterward. A full stomach did feel amazing but but he was concerned about the effect that this new development would have on him in the future. If they ever ended up without supplies, would he starve faster than he use to or could he go for two or even three weeks without substantial amounts of food? It worried him.  
Finishing off his breakfast, he made his way over to the bar and motioned for the innkeeper to come closer.  
“Those two at the table will need a big breakfast like I did. If they don't wake up in the next hour or two, would you mind rousing them and giving them their food?” Damien asked sliding a silver across the bar.  
“I certainly can,” the man said accepting the money and nodding.  
“I appreciate it,” Damien responded as he made his way out the door.  
He found a small clearing near the ruins of an old aqueduct that had once run all the way out to the Circle Tower and drew his daggers. As much as he knew he needed his rest, he could not allow himself to lose his flexibility or his speed. Even if the pain stuck around for longer, he needed to train and improve his skills. The fact that Lyna had to save him in the tower and that he only beat Uldred by severely injuring himself only proved how much he needed to improve. If they ran into seasoned troops loyal to Loghain or a large band of darkspawn, he would need to be able to hold his own. As much as he did rely on everyone in the group to fight together, he needed to make sure that he could hold his own in a fight just in case he ever needed to save the group.  
He twirled the daggers around his body and he closed his eyes. He tried to picture himself as an opponent. He assumed that if he trained while picturing the act of fighting himself, he could improve both his defensive abilities as well as his attacks and counters.  
He spent most of the morning practicing the motions repetitively until he could use any combination of blocking, countering, striking, and dodging in perfect rhythm. He needed his muscles to remember the motions so he could react faster. This way his muscles would know what to do and he could hone his skills and fine tune his fighting style and combine it with his magic. He had to ignore the pain in his side with each movement. Sweat rolled down his face as his breath stung his throat. He would need more practice against living opponents. Kallian would be a good sparring partner for fighting someone like him, but he would need to spar with several of his comrades if he wanted to improve his abilities against any opponent. Besides, once he had mastered the basics of fighting one on one, then he would need to learn to fight better against a group. Maker knew he would most likely end up in that kind of situation before the end of the Blight.  
“Training when injured is admirable,” Sten said stepping into Damien's training space with his arms crossed.  
“Maybe a little stupid too, but I have to improve. I know my abilities are not good enough to inspire an army yet. The better I am, the more soldiers will want to follow me, right?” Damien asked sheathing his weapons and wiping his face with his sleeve.  
“Soldiers follow out of loyalty and obligation. To lead an army, one must know your role in the world as the qunari do,” Sten stated.  
“I've heard of the Qun before. You're not trying to convert me are you Sten?” Damien said lowering his scarf and loosening it so he could allow some cooler air to grace his neck and face.  
“All must submit to the Qun,” Sten replied stoically.  
“You know that not all will. No one but me decides my destiny. I have that right and so do you. You choose to follow the Qun and I accept that, but don't try to force those ideals on others. Wouldn't the Qun benefit from having only willing members follow it?” Damien asked.  
“The Qun is more than that. It is order to the chaos that envelops this world,” Sten responded. Damien sighed and sat down with his back against the ruins wall. He could see the lake as well as several trails through the trees and brush headed toward the banks.  
He stood suddenly and drew his weapons with his eyes fixed on the woods beyond. He could sense the eyes of something on him and the twinge in his blood told him all he needed to know. The foe he was about to face were darkspawn. No doubt about it.  
“Sten, call Leliana, Neria, and Daylen over here now. I looks like we're going to have some unwanted company,” Damien said keeping his gaze on the woods.  
“Very well,” Sten said. There was something about the way that he said it that made Damien uneasy. A sorrowful feeling threaded its way through the qunari's voice. Damien wanted to ask about it, but he was more worried about the darkspawn coming so close to the tavern. Were they coming for him and the other wardens or was this just a scouting group?  
Damien waited only for a moment before starting his advance on the trees. He knew he needed to wait for the others to join him but his curiosity was getting the better of him. Could he tune his senses with the taint like training his muscles? Could he figure out what kind of darkspawn and how many they were facing by the feelings that ran through his blood?  
The feeling grew stronger as he took cover at the tree line. If he could just get a view of what they were up against, then he might be able to start training himself to recognize the different warnings his blood could give him.  
The sound of creatures moving among the branches caught his ears as his eyes darted from spot to spot. He just needed something to give away their position. A branch moving or a bush rustling, something to tell him where they were.  
His blood screamed louder and louder as the darkspawn grew ever closer. He had to figure out where they were and how many they had before his comrades arrived. Maybe if he gave them a sound to react to, but then that would give away his position.   
“Damien! Where are you?” someone shouted from behind him. He glanced back to see Leliana cresting the hill. He had the distraction he needed to attract his prey and turned his attention back to the woods. He spotted a bush move as several genlocks and hurlocks led by an alpha hurlock came stomping through the brush, over a dozen of them.  
“Commander!” Daylen called. Damien had to wait. If he answered now, the darkspawn would turn and confront him while he was alone. But, could he really let his comrades get attacked without any warning? None of them were wardens, they would not know the darkspawn were there until they got closer. No choice, he had to move now and get between his comrades and the darkspawn.  
Damien burst from the treeline and sprinted straight for the darkspawns' path. If his assessment was right he would collide with the second hurlock in line. With his speed, he should be able to get back on his feet giving everyone else the chance to flank the entire group.  
Raising his daggers, Damien watched the beasts emerge from the treeline and start to pick up speed, but Damien was already on top of them. His blades ripped through the throat of the hurlock and spun around driving his daggers through the back of a genlock's neck, separating the beast's head from his shoulder. As he tried to turn to reengage his enemy, he lost his footing and fell. Sliding into a jumble of thorny bushes, Damien lifted his arms in a desperate attempt to shield his face and eyes as the plant's barbs ripped into his clothes and flesh.  
He tried to jump back to his feet again, but he was too tangled in the thorny branches to move. Like a snake constricting around his arms and legs, the thorn bushes held him still as if waiting for the darkspawn to finish him.  
“Commander!” Daylen shouted a massive fire ball roared past Damien and collided with a genlock. The force threw the creature backward slamming it into a tree. Damien could hear the bones in the beast's back breaking against the tree trunk as dark, tainted blood erupted from its mouth.  
“Daylen, fire wall! Leliana, cover me while I cut myself free. Sten, engage them. Neria, support us as best you can with your healing spells,” Damien ordered doing his best to cut the thorns off of himself.  
Daylen's spell erupted in front of him creating a blazing barrier between him and the darkspawn as he cut the thorns away from his armor and clothes.  
“How deep are the cuts?” Neria asked as she cast a spell on Daylen. As she did, Daylen's fire wall seemed to grow hotter and taller. It must have been a magic restoring spell, or some kind of magical transfer between the two.  
“I'll live. Nothing I haven't dealt with before,” Damien answered pulling himself free of the brushes. “Daylen, dispell the fire wall!” The flames died down leaving only embers and ash in their wake almost immediately as Damien rejoined the battle.  
He crossed his blades in front of him, using both his arms to block the alpha's battleaxe. The strike would probably have cleaved him in half if it had connected, however the vibration it sent through his hands and up his arms nearly knocked his blades out of reach. Damien staggered backward and sheathed one of his blades. He would have to keep his distance and use his throwing knives along with his agility to take down this opponent.  
The alpha roared and tried to cut him down again, but Damien jumped back and threw a knife at the beast's hand. If he could cut off a few fingers, the darkspawn's grip would be looser and he might be able to disarm and kill it. The knife connected but it hit the beast's forearm rather than its hand.  
“Damn it,” Damien cursed drawing another knife. He kept moving keeping an eye on the darkspawn's feet and how much weight it was placing on each. Its arms gave away the timing of the next strike and the weight in the feet gave away which direction it would come from. Come on, Damien. Keep up with the movements. He could not afford to be distracted, but he couldn't ignore the rest of the fight either.  
Suddenly, a shield blocked the next attack in front of him as Alistair leaped in front of him. The warden had his sword drawn and was quickly joined by Alyssa. Glancing back at the hill, Lyna and Morrigan were launching arrows and spells into the fray as well.  
“You really didn't have to hog all the fun,” Alistair joked using his shield to push the alpha back as Alyssa took over the fight.  
“You know me, I have to get my exercise,” Damien responded throwing the knife he had in hand into the back of a hurlock that was approaching Sten from behind. “Guard Sten's back. I'll cover Alyssa.”   
Alistair nodded quickly before sprinting across the battleground to Sten. Damien nodded and charged forward. He launched himself forward at full speed planting the heels of his boots into the alpha's chest. The blow knocked the creature off balance giving Alyssa enough time to sever the beast's head.  
The last darkspawn fell only a few minutes after the battle had started and Damien's comrades quickly began searching them for anything useful. Darkspawn weapons fetched fair prices in villages and towns like Redcliffe. Some blacksmiths would even melt down darkspawn weapons and reforge them into arrowheads and blades to help fight the monsters.  
“Familiar,” Sten said using his foot to roll one of the fallen beast over.  
“What do you mean?” Damien asked as he checked the thorn scraps on his arms.  
“I have fought darkspawn here before,” Sten said pointing to an area up the hill toward the Imperial Highway.  
“When? It can't have been that long ago,” Damien said rolling down his torn sleeves.  
“I camped along the shore with my comrades. The darkspawn attacked from below. MY companions were cut down and I was wounded. In the midst of battle, I even dropped my sword,” Sten said clenching his fist.  
“Was that sword special to you?” Damien asked. The look in the qunari's eyes told him that there was something about the sword that was irreplaceable, but why?  
“For the qunari, a warrior's soul rests in their blade. To replace my sword would be like replacing my arm or heart,” Sten explained.  
“Then we'll try and find it. You're stoic enough as it is,” Damien said smiling and patting the qunari on the back.  
“You would do that?” Sten asked.  
“Of course. You're part of my team. I need you at your best,” Damien responded.  
“What in Andraste's name were you thinking?” Alistair snapped shoving Damien. Damien smiled and shoved him back.  
“I was thinking there were darkspawn and I needed to kill them. Unless I'm missing something, I'm pretty sure that's my job,” Damien retorted grinning from ear to ear.  
“I meant, what were you doing in the thorn bushes. We don't have a spare tunic in your size,” Alistair scolded.  
“Oh shut up. You sound like a mother hen,” Damien teased, checking his scarf to make sure the thorns had not damaged it.  
Alistair laughed flapping his arms like an angry chicken before giving Damien a firm kick in the rear. “Next time, call us too. We've got each others backs, remember?”  
Damien nodded and put his arm around his comrade as they made their way back over to help with the search through the enemy dead. The young commander couldn't believe how close he was getting with them and not just his fellow wardens. The others in the group were starting to feel like friends instead of comrades in arms too. He couldn't help it as a genuine smile split his lips. Maybe this rag-tag group of misfits would be his home and his family? His hand caught hold of the pendant around his neck. These people with him would never replace Lockey, Henness, and Griggs, but they were making it easier to move on and be happy with his life, even if they were in the middle a civil war and a Blight.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25  
Damien wrapped his forearms up with clean bandages as the cart rumbled over the rough road. They had spent their last day at the Spoiled Princess asking about Sten's sword and keeping Morrigan and Wynne from killing each other. Although Damien was no closer to solving the feud between the two mages, they did have a lead on the sword from a merchant who claimed to see a scavenger selling a qunari sword to a dwarf from Redcliffe. Considering that that was where they were headed anyway, Damien considered it to be either luck or fate. Maybe a bit of both.  
“How is your pain?” Wynne asked from her seat at the back of the cart.  
“Feeling fine. Still on the sore side but I haven't exactly been taking it easy now, have I?” Damien replied raising his bandages arms and rubbing his side.  
“That is true. You have not, but I meant your arms. I wish you would let me heal you,” Wynne stated.  
“Thanks mom, but I'll be fine. I've dealt with a lot worse before,” Damien responded as his gaze fell. He had survived torture, broken bones, stitching his own wounds, and illness. Asking Wynne to waste magic on a few scratches from thorn bushes just seemed wasteful.  
“Damien, what do you think we'll find in Redcliffe?” Alistair asked as he walked behind the cart.  
“Hopefully good news, but I'm not that optimistic,” Damien replied. He had been thinking about their situation since the fight with the darkspawn.  
“Why not?” Kallian asked adjusting her position in the cart so she was facing Damien.  
“We've run into a few Redcliffe knights since Ostagar, but they were searching for a cure for Arl Eamon. Now, I might be spitting in the dark on this one, but it seemed pretty convenient that the Arl suddenly took ill right before Loghain betrayed the king,” Damien said opening the trunk they kept their documents in and digging through the scrolls and parchment. He found a small ledger with several letters tucked inside and the royal seal on the front.  
“What's that?” Alistair asked.   
“Not sure,” the commander replied as Damien opened it up and started reading. It took him a bit to get through the first letter but it appeared to be diplomatic dispatches between Empress Celene and King Cailan asking for support against the Blight.  
“Diplomatic documents apparently,” Damien stated handing the letter to Alistair. The man hopped up onto the cart and sat on the edge as he read through the letter.  
“Well, don't keep it to yourselves. Why not share with the group?” Alyssa said as she jogged to catch up to the cart.  
“The king was asking Orlais for help against the darkspawn and I think the Empress was going to send it,” Alistiar said as Damien handed him the ledger. He might have been able to figure out the words, but no where near as fast as the former Templar could.  
“If that was the case, any reinforcements Orlais sent should have been here by now, unless Loghain knew about this and turned them around at the border,” Damien said rubbing his chin as he thought.  
“That makes the most sense,” Alyssa agreed.  
“Wait, Loghain fought with King Maric against Orlais right? What if he betrayed the king to keep Orlais out of Fereldan?” Damien said rubbing his chin.  
“That would be completely stupid. I mean, without a king, that would open the door to a major invasion,” Alyssa retorted.  
“But Loghain announced his regency the minute he was back in Denerim. We all heard about it,” Kallian replied.  
“With Loghain in command, Orlais wouldn't dare try to invade. They would be seen as the aggressors and open themselves up for legal retaliation from the other kingdoms,” Liliana added.  
“Do you really think that would stop them?” Alyssa asked turning to face the bard.  
“It doesn't matter. All we know is that those reinforcements never made it to us and Loghain betrayed the king. Everything else is guess work. Let's focus on what we can accomplish first which is gathering allies against the Blight. We'll handle Loghain once we come to that particular bridge,” Damien said silencing the discussion.  
“If Orlais does invade, what should we do?” Alyssa asked.  
“Let's worry about that when and if it happens. Just remember, we're Grey Wardens. We don't get involved with politics unless it affects the Blight. Make sure you keep that in mind,” Damien said looking over at the former noble. She nodded obviously having mixed feeling about Damien's decision.  
000  
It took another two and a half days before the small caravan reached the outskirts of Redcliffe in the Hinterlands. The cliffs and steep hills around the village made the trip both beautiful and treacherous. Damien could feel a darkness surrounding the whole area and the feeling only got stronger the closer the got to the village.  
“Stop the wagons and gear up,” Damien ordered.  
“What's going on?” Alistair asked as his hand wrapped around the grip of his sword.  
“A bad feeling,” Damien said climbing out of the wagon, ready to draw his weapons.  
“I don't sense anything,” Alyssa said looking around.  
Damien knew this feeling was certainly not darkspawn, but it was a dark feeling that crept up and down his back like a slimy slug. Chills emanated from his spine raising goosebumps on both his arms and legs.  
“Trust me, there is something seriously wrong. Wynne, can you feel it?” Damien asked. Maybe another mage could sense this bone chilling force.  
“There is a darkness if I concentrate, but it is very faint,” Wynne said stepping to Damien's side.  
“Maker's breath, can nothing ever be easy?” Damien said.  
“What do you want to do?” Lyna asked as she kept her gaze focused ahead of them.  
“Take anything necessary for combat and two days of rations. We'll make our way to the village on foot from here. Bodahn, take our carts and get off the main road. Daylen, you and Brax will keep them safe,” Damien ordered.  
“Wait, why me?” Daylen asked looking over at the mabari as the massive dog trotted over to him and sat down next to him.  
“Because if you are attacked, I know you can hold your own. Brax is with you just in case. Make me proud,” Damien said taking a small bag of food and canteen from the cart as well as a bag of coins. He did not expect to need five sovereigns worth of coins but it would be better to have it and not need it than to be without and need it.  
“Yes commander, I'll do my best,” Daylen said placing his arm over his chest in a salute.  
“Bodhan, Daylen won't be able to keep watch all the time. He'll need help keeping an eye out, but if a fight does start, leave the combat to him,” Damien said looking back at the dwarf.  
“That sounds reasonable to me, my friend,” Bodhan answered cheerfully.  
“Alright, there is a small path back down the road about a thousand paces or so. It is big enough to fit the wagons down. Find a spot to camp and we will meet you there in a few days. If a week passed, and no one brings word, find your way to the Orlais Wardens and beg them to come and fight the Blight. Is that understood?” Damien said as Daylen climbed up into the drivers seat of their wagon.  
“That's not going to happen. You'll be coming back, I'm sure of it,” Daylen said smiling. Damien chuckled and nodded. He could tell by the youth's tone that the young mage understood what was expected of him even if he did not like it.   
Damien took the lead as his team fell in step with him making their way down the road. The dark feeling around him kept getting thicker in the air as if there was a massive thunderstorm brewing behind the mountains.  
“I think I'm starting to feel what you were talking about,” Neria said looking around as she clutched her staff to her chest.  
“Calm yourself, little one. We will be fine,” Wynne assured her, but Damien could feel the force getting stronger and stronger as the village gate came into view.  
Damien held up his hand to slow his group as they closed the gap between them and the fortification. He could see people beyond the gate, but they were not guards. They looked to be militia.  
“Hello? Have you come to help us?” someone shouted from the far side.  
“Lyna, cover me. Alyssa, Alistair, with me. Everyone else, be ready to take cover,” Damien ordered silently handing his bag of rations to Neria.  
“Be careful. We don't know what's going on,” Leliana said as the three Wardens advanced. Damien didn't think there would be a problem, but he wanted to make sure that the two people with shields were with him to protect him from any possible ambush.  
“My name is Damien. I am the Warden Commander of Fereldan. I've come here seeking an audience with Arl Eamon,” Damien shouted as they get closer. The gate creaked and whined as the massive portcullis was raised and a wounded man raced out to meet them. The only thing that shouted militia about the man was the sword on his belt. Everything else from his clothes to his shoes were simple cloth. This man had no protection; no shield or armor.  
“So no one knows what's going on here. Maker help us all,” the man said looking down at the ground.  
“Relax. Tell me what's going on and I'll see if I can help,” Damien said waving for his team to rejoin him.  
“We are plagued every night by monsters from the castle. It started a week ago and every night there are more people dead,” the man said.  
“Monsters from the castle? What are you talking about? What about the people inside?” Alistair shouted taking a step forward.  
“Take it easy, Alistair. Let the man speak,” Damien said catching his friend by the shoulder and pulling him back. “Apologies, but my friend here is well acquainted with the Arl and his family. You understand, right?”  
“Of course, but we've had no word from anyone in the Castle since the first night. We've just been fighting and dying,” the man explained. Tears started to stream down the man's face. “Every night they attack us until dawn and every night more people die. If Bann Teagan weren't here, I'm sure we would all be dead now.”  
“Bann Teagan, Arl Eamon's brother? He's here?” Alistair exclaimed.  
“Yes, I should take you to him. He'll want to meet you,” the man said waving for them to follow him.  
“The rest of you go ahead. I want to talk to Alistair alone for a second,” Damien said. “We'll catch up in a minute.”  
His companions exchanged curious looks with each other before following their guide toward the village as Damien pulled Alistair to the side.  
“I have never seen you this worked up, not even after Duncan...” Damien stopped himself. That was the last thing he needed to bring up now. “Look, what's going on with you?”  
Alistair shifted his weight as he let out a sigh. Whatever was bothering him was no small matter, especially to get a rise out him rather than a sarcastic joke.  
“I'm sorry, Damien. I just... I told you about how I was raised in Redcliffe castle, but the reason I grew up there was because...” Alistair started but he stopped.  
“Look, I get that whatever relationship you have with Arl Eamon and his family is complicated, but if it's going to interfere with what we have to do here, then maybe you need to wait with the wagons and Daylen,” Damien said.  
“Its not... Maker's breath, why is this so hard to say?” Alistair took a deep breath and clenched his fists. “I'm a bastard. The reason I was raised in the castle was because my mother as a servant there and my father was King Maric.”  
Damien took a step backward. He must have misheard him. Alistair related to the king by blood? That was not possible. What in the Void was he doing with the Grey Wardens? Could anyone else know? Of course Arl Eamon must have because who else would have told Alistair about his origins. But did that mean that Loghain might know too? Did King Cailan know?  
“So... you're a royal bastard?” Damien asked. Humor... of course he would use humor to hide that fact that he was completely freaking out. He could barely deal with the fact that Alyssa was a noble, now they had the bastard son of King Maric too? Andraste's grace, what in the Void were they supposed to do now?  
“Yeah I guess I am,” Alistair said laughing. Seeing his friend loosen up helped but Damien could still feel his mind grasping at anything it could make sense of. Could Alistair be the reason that Loghain betrayed the Wardens? Was he trying to eliminate any true competition for the throne?  
“Does Loghain know?” Damien asked. He had to confirm his suspicions.  
“Well, King Maric and Loghain were best friends so I assume so,” Alistair answered.  
Andrate's mercy! Damien not might have the reason the wardens were killed standing in front of him, but Alistair might even have a legitimate claim to the throne. If that was the case... no, no, no... he had to concentrate on the task at hand. For the moment that was securing Redcliffe's safety and support from the Arl, no matter the cost.  
“Thanks for telling me, Alistair. I know that was probably hard to talk about. So, should I be calling you 'your highness' from now on?” Damien said giving his friend a shove.  
“Maker's breath, no!” Alistair said reaching to shove Damien back, but the young rogue jumped backward forcing his friend to chase him down the road after their companions.  
000  
As the group came into the village, Damien could feel the despair surrounding them. The looks on the people's faces couldn't have been more hopeless. Men clad in some of the roughest looking armor he'd ever seen swung old swords around clumsily. The blades looked to be as close to the brink of breaking as the people that wielded them.  
Damien shook his head as they entered the Chantry, but the view within seemed even more hopeless. A couple dozen wounded men and nearly a hundred women and children lined the walls praying, crying, and in complete despair. The brothers and sisters of the Chantry were doing what they could but nothing seemed to help calm the people down.  
A nobleman close to the front of the building was talking with a few villagers. He looked to be the man in command.  
“I'm guessing that's Bann Teagan?” Damien asked the young man leading the group.  
“Yes sir. He's really the only reason any of us are still here,” the young man said.  
Damien nodded with a small smile. The bann was truly loved by the people. If anything had happened to Arl Eamon, maybe the Bann would be the next best thing as an ally.  
“Tomas, weren't you on watch near the main road?” the man asked. He took a quick look at the group behind the young man and his expression changed. “Who are these people?”  
“Bann Teagan, do you remember me? It's been a while and the last time you saw me I was younger and covered in mud,” Alistair said stepping forward. Damien had almost started the introductions but maybe letting Alistair break the ice would get things rolling faster.  
“Covered in mud? Alistair, is that you? I can't believe you're alive. I thought you had been lost at Ostagar with the other Wardens,” Bann Teagan said embracing him. Damien smiled seeing the look of joy on his friend's face. The fact that someone remembered him and missed him enough to hug him must have been a pretty good feeling.  
“Wait, he's a warden too?” Neria exclaimed. Damien winced.  
Andraste's ass, I was really hoping to keep the fact that there was more than one warden a secret for a while longer but I guess there's no helping it now, Damien thought rubbing the back of his head.  
“Wait, I um...” Alistair started raising his hands.  
“Don't worry about it, Alistair. It was all going to come out eventually,” Damien said patting his friend on the shoulder. “We'll explain everything is a bit. For now, I think an introduction would be polite.”  
“Oh, right. Bann Teagan, this is Damien, the Commander of the Grey,” Alistair said motioning to Damien. “Damien, this is Arl Eamon's brother, Bann Teagan.”  
“It is an honor to meet you Commander,” Teagan said bowing slightly.  
“Likewise, but please call me Damien. Before we get too engrossed in the pleasantries, Could you bring us up to speed on what's been going on the village and the castle. Your man we met earlier said you were under attack from monsters and no one has heard anything from the castle,” Damien said returning the bow.  
“Tomas was correct. For the past six nights from dusk to dawn, walking corpses have attacked the village relentlessly. So far, we have defended ourselves but at a high cost. So far over two dozen villages are dead with another thirty injured, some worse off than others,” Bann Teagan said motioning for the group to follow him.  
“Wynne, Neria, see what you can do for the wounded. Sten, I know we're a few hours from dusk, but I want you to head up to a spot where you can see the castle bridge. If there is any movement at all, inform me right away,” Damien ordered. The three nodded and quickly set about their tasks, although, Sten did give a grumble as he turned to leave. Damien knew the Qunari was feeling restless. A battle might have a calming effect on the large warrior.  
“I appreciate the assistance, Damien. The villagers are tired and the few knights we have have not slept in days. We are constantly putting out fires, rebuilding defenses, and caring for the wounded. There is almost no time for rest at all,” Teagan explained.  
“I understand, and I'll assume most of your people have never fought in a real battle before. Am I correct?” Damien asked as they approached a table with a large map of the village. The drawing was no where near a masterful, cartographer's work but it did show where all the buildings were and where Teagan had put up defenses.  
“That's right. Most of the villagers are farmers or merchants. There are a few retired soldiers here but most of them are wounded. As a rough estimate, I'd say we have 40 people still capable of fighting in the village,” Teagan said.  
“I don't think that my team and I are enough to turn the tide, but we are all seasoned fighters and we have a few mages. Speaking of which, Lyna, would you have Daylen bring up the wagons. I have a feeling that our poultices and elfroot stores will come in handy in here. On top of that, having a Circle trained battlemage would be a help,” Damien ordered.  
“On my way,” Lyna replied turning and sprinting from the chantry.  
“I am very glad for the assistance. You should talk to Murdock next. He's the mayor of the village and currently leading the militia,” Teagan explained.  
“That sounds like a plan to me. Morrigan, Kallian, I want you two to head up to the bridge and rig some traps and wards to slow the enemy's advance. The more damage we can inflict on their forces before they get to the village, the fewer casualties we'll have. On that note, Alyssa, take Brax and search around the village for any supplies that we could use to our advantage. Leliana and Alistair will accompany me to talk to the mayor,” Damien ordered.  
The group moved out without hesitation. Damien was starting to get a little too comfortable giving out orders, but there was one situation that kept playing through his head sending chills up and down his spine every time it reared its head. Stories of heroic valor shown by an individual or small group had captured the hearts and minds of most Fereldan children. Soldiers who would stand and fight against the greatest odds were immortalized in books and songs. However, that heroic valor always proved to be fatal. A general who became too ambitious or was simply out smarted would have to leave a small group of men behind to defend their retreating comrades as sacrificial pawns for the greater good. Could he make that kind of decision if it ever came to it? Could he ever give one of his companions the order to die?


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26  
Damien stood before the man Teagan had introduced as Murdock before returning to the chantry. The mayor was not a massive man, but he was obviously strong. However, his exhaustion was more than apparent on his face. Dark circles colored beneath his eyes like shadows in a dark forest. Damien could almost smell the hopelessness emanating from him and the rest of the villagers.  
“Well Warden-Commander, I'm not sure what help you can give us, but I'll take anything I can get. Our armor and weapons are in serious need of repair and my people need decent training if we are going to survive another night. There is Dwyn and his men and they would be perfect for reinforcements, but they have been barricaded inside that damn dwarf's house since this whole mess started and refuse to come out,” Murdock explained glancing over his shoulder at a small grouping of buildings near the lake.  
“I see a forge over there. Was your smith killed?” Damien asked pointing to a building with all the tools and supplies needed for repairing their weapons and armor.  
“No, Owen is simply being a stubborn pig. He's shut himself up in his home. He says it's because we won't go get his daughter from the castle, but for all we know she's dead,” Murdock explained.  
“I see. Looks like I have some work to do. Leliana, work with the villagers standing in as archers. I want them to be able to launch tightly grouped volleys by tonight. Alistair, work with the warriors and train them in shield defense. All they need to be able to do is form a shield wall. Can you two handle that?” Damien asked.  
“I think I might be able to, but the problem is going to be getting the archers to a point where they can fire at a set distance together,” Leliana said pinching her chin as she thought.  
“If we set things up the way I'm thinking. They will just have to be able to fire straight ahead at the same time. We're going to need quantity over quality from them. Work on speeding up their shots without sacrificing the power behind them,” Damien answered patting his friends on the shoulder before heading toward the smithy.  
All he needed was for the villagers to be a defensive line near the chantry. The more seasoned fighters would set up a front line closer to the bridge with a small force for a counter attack. The whole idea was to hold out until dawn with the chantry as their last fall back position. If the enemy pushed them back that far, they would not survive.  
Of course, if they did not get the villagers' armor and weapons in better shape, there was no way they would have a prayer of surviving anyway. He had to get this Owen fellow out of his home and back to work. Damien knocked on the door only to be growled at.   
“What do you want? Go away!” someone snarled from behind the door.  
“Owen, I need you to open the door. You and I need to talk,” Damien said looking down at the latch and lock. They were simple in design. He had picked harder locks hundreds of times, but would picking the smith's lock and bursting into his home be the best move if the man refused to let him in?  
“What could I possibly have to talk to you about?” the man shouted back through the door.  
Damien had to think fast. Getting the man's door open would be fairly easy, but getting him back to work would be a different story. Suddenly, Damien remembered what Murdock had said about Owen's daughter. He had a bargaining chip now, maybe that would be enough.  
“I want to discuss the possibility of launching a rescue mission into the castle to save anyone left inside,” Damien replied. It was true. His plan was to launch an attack on the castle as soon as they were able so that they could save Arl Eamon if he was still alive, but defending the village had to come first, but Owen did not need to know that just yet.  
“Oh, wait, I'll let you in!” the man shouted. Damien could hear the clicking of the lock being undone as the latch lifted.  
The door opened and a cloud of a pungent odor engulfed him. Damien had not smelled anything so strong except in a tavern when half the men inside were drunk. He could hear Alistair's voice in his head doing his usual routine of stating the obvious. 'Someone's been drinking.' That stupid sing-song voice he used when being snarky made the urge to chuckle at his situation stronger than his urge to gag. He was so thankful for his scarf at that moment.  
“So, you are going to save my Valena?” Owen said motioning for Damien to come inside.  
“That's the thing, my friend. I want to launch a rescue to the castle, but the defenses here need to be able to hold while I'm gone. With the state of everyone's weapons and armor, I'm afraid a rescue mission is unthinkable at the moment,” Damien said. He paused hoping his words would find their way through the alcohol soaked air and into the smith's ear.  
“What's that supposed to mean?” the smith slurred.  
“I noticed that your smithy is very well stocked and your forge still has some embers burning. If you were willing to help equip the villagers with better weapons, or at least repair the ones they have, I would feel better about leading my people to the castle as long as defenses hold tonight,” Damien said crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall.  
“You mean, if I help fix the villagers' weapons and armor, you'll rescue my Valena?” Owen said taking a step closer to Damien. His breath nearly smothered the warden as he waved his hand in front of his face.  
“You have my word. If the defenses hold tonight, I'll launch a rescue mission into the castle myself tomorrow morning,” Damien said extending his hand.  
“Alright, you got it. I'll get to work,” Owen stated letting out a hiccup as he made his way toward his forge.  
Damien nodded and took a quick swig from his canteen. Getting Owen on board would definitely be a boost to the villagers' morale and that was probably worth more than any repairs the smith made to their armor and weapons. Next he needed to get the dwarf, Dwyn, on board with defending the village. Fighters with experience were going to be the backbone of Damien's strategic defense. Although, experienced fighters like Dwyn would not be persuaded just with words. A little intimidation would probably help and when he needed someone intimidating, there was only one person that came to mind.  
“Commander, I had Bodahn stow the wagons behind the chantry then take Sandal inside. What are your orders?” Daylen asked.  
“I need you to go and relieve Sten and keep watch on the bridge leading to the castle. Send him to meet me in front of the chantry. Lyna; you, me, and Sten are going to talk with some... um... reluctant volunteers,” Damien said smirking.  
“Maker, I always miss out on the fun,” Daylen said smiling as he jogged off toward the castle bridge.  
“Why Sten? He's not very good with diplomacy,” Lyna said following Damien over to the stairs of the chantry.  
“Sten is going to be with us purely for intimidation. No offense, but you and I are not exactly scary looking,” Damien said turning back to look at Lyna.  
“I don't know. With that scarf and hood, you look pretty terrifying. Well, at least until you start talking,” Lyna said smiling.   
Damien chuckled as he took a seat on the stairs. He looked out at the groups of villagers as they trained. They were working hard, despite their exhaustion. The basic tactics Alistair and Leliana were teaching them seemed to be taking hold. The archers were able to fire volleys together every few seconds but after four or five volleys, they were too tired to continue for a few minutes. He would have to keep that in mind for when the fighting started.  
“You sent for me?” Sten said stepping in front of him.  
“I need you to look scary for me,” Damien said causing Lyna to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter.  
“I do not understand,” Sten replied.  
“Come with me and look angry. We need to convince a stubborn dwarf to join the fight with his men,” Damien stated.  
“I will simply tell him to join or die,” Sten stated sternly.  
“Sten, we can't kill him. We need him. As much as I would love to see you beating the crap out of a stubborn dwarf,” Damien replied holding back a laugh. He stood quickly and waved for them to follow him. Murdock had pointed out Dwyn's house while they were talking. Damien was a little more worried about the number of men the dwarf might have with him.  
Damien knocked, but there was no answer at all. Three times he slammed on the door to try and get them to answer but nothing. He could hear some voices inside, but nothing else.  
“Sten, you mind knocking for me?” Damien said smirking. “Knock hard.”  
“Very well,” Sten said stepping forward. He reared back and kicked the door with all his might sending it flying inside.  
“Nicely done,” Damien stated smiling and walking casually inside.  
In the main room, a dwarf with four humans stood with their weapons at the ready. Damien could tell they had plenty of fighting experience. The dwarf was especially tough considering the way he held his dual-blade axe and his fighting stance.  
“Who in the Void are you!?!” Dwyn shouted taking a step forward.  
“Just your friendly neighborhood recruiter. Congratulations! You've been drafted,” Damien said crossing his arms.  
“By the stone, get out of my house before I kill you,” Dwyn said as his men lifted their weapons.  
“Asala. Why do you have it? Give me back my Asala,” Sten snarled taking a thundering step past Damien. The young warden followed the qunari's gaze to a sword hanging in the wall. The design was rather unique. Damien had never seen a blade like it, and the fact that Sten said a name, it must have been his sword.  
“What are you talking about?” the dwarf answered standing his ground.  
“Well, you see, it seems you purchased a stolen sword. A stolen qunari sword to be precise and it belongs to my large friend here. I really hoped that I could convince you to help us defend the village but I suppose eliminating a weapons thief is a nice consolation prize,” Damien said gripping the handles of his daggers.  
“Wait, I was told the owner of the sword was dead,” Dwyn protested.  
“Then someone lied to you. Hand over the sword then report to Murdock with your men for assignment. Do that and I promise to make sure my qunari friend doesn't rip your arms off,” Damien said motioning the the steaming Sten next to him.  
“Sod it, fine. Take the damn thing. It's not like we could stay in here anymore anyway after you broke my door down,” Dwyn stated motioning for his men to follow.  
“Glad to be fighting with you,” Damien said grinning as the dwarf passed him.  
“I can't believe it. Asala has returned to my hand. I am whole once more,” Sten said taking hold of the grip and raising his sword.  
“She is a beauty. I'm glad we happened to stumble across it like this. I was planning on talking with a few old contacts to see what they knew, but here she is and in beautiful condition too,” Damien said stepping closer so he could see the sword better.  
“Are you sure you are a Grey Warden? For I believe you are an ashkaari to find a single sword in a country at war,” Sten said pressing his forehead against the flat of his blade.  
“We just happened to stumble on it, Sten. I'm glad you have it back and all, but seriously, I didn't do much,” Damien confessed looking over his shoulder at Lyna.  
“Still, you sought after it. You have my gratitude. I had almost forgotten what completion felt like,” Sten said gripping his sword tightly.  
“Now that you have your weapon back, what do you say we get ready for the upcoming fight?” Damien said tapping his own blades.  
“Agreed,” the qunari replied laying the blade against his shoulder as they headed out the door.  
Sten continued on to the village square as Damien leaned back against the wall taking a deep breath. His chest might as well have weighed as much as a drake with as difficult as it was to get a breath. The second that Sten had started shouting at Dwyn, Damien thought he might have to defend his companion and slay their much needed reinforcements.  
“You look like the Dread Wolf is on your heels,” Lyna said leaning against the wall next to him.  
“I don't mind if he's willing to help us fight,” Damien responded glancing over at his companion. As much as his group was doing, he still had doubts that they would survive the coming battle.  
“You will figure things out. You always do,” Lyna stated patting him on the shoulder.  
Damien nodded and adjusted his scarf. He needed to stop worrying about things that were not happening right there and then. If he kept worrying about things that did not happen or had a slim chance of happening, he would not have the energy to fix what needed to be fixed right in front of him.  
“I'm going to go talk to the knights, see if I can get them to get some sleep. Scout the bridge and any other path that the enemy could use to get to the village. We'll need to put up some barricades and set traps all along them,” Damien said pushing off the wall and heading back toward the stairs.  
“You got it,” Lyna replied jogging away ahead of him.  
Damien spent the rest of the afternoon examining maps and discussing defense options with the knights and Bann Teagan. The knights would take shifts building the palisades to help defend the main route into the village which would then be soaked in oil that Alyssa found in a store that had been boarded up. With the palisades set a blaze along with the other traps and magic wards everyone had set up, the enemy would lose many of their horde before ever reaching the village.  
After inspecting the defenses, Damien sat down with his back against the windmill near the main gate of the village. As he caught his breath, the young warden found himself feeling almost at peace, forgetting about the impending battle, and allowing himself to rest his body and mind. The sky looked bluer and calmer than any ocean or lake Damien had ever seen. There was something about it that made him feel safe. The cool, Fereldan air encircled him and penetrated his armor cooling his skin. He even pulled the scarf away from his nose and mouth to let the fresh wind caress his face.  
“Enjoying yourself?” someone asked. Damien jumped slightly and instinctively pulled his scarf back up over his nose and mouth, but upon seeing that his visitor was Kallian, let the fabric fall back to his neck.  
“What's the situation?” Damien asked leaning back once more.  
“The traps are set and Morrigan is finishing up the wards, but I found something that seems... off,” Kallian reported.  
“Off? I might be a mage, but I'm not a mind reader. Care to elaborate?” Damien said pushing himself back up onto his feet.  
“There's a tavern up the road and I wanted to see if it might be a good place to stash some of the wounded, but the owner is a shem asshole. But anyway, there's an elf there that looks way too well armed to be in the militia and won't talk to anyone. The waitress told me he hasn't been fighting either,” Kallian reported. Damien crossed his arms looking down at the ground. He was already starting to come up with possible scenarios that would fit what Kallian had told him, but none of them really fit.  
“Sounds like I might want to make a new friend,” Damien said smirking. This elf could be only one of three possible things; a sibling of one of the castle servants waiting for his chance to get into the castle, a traveler who got stuck in town during the attack, or he was a spy for someone keeping an eye on Redcliffe.  
The tavern could not have been described any differently than a pisshole. The smell of the air reeked of booze, vomit, and old blood. Damien could see a few militiamen in a corner trying to drown their sorrows, but the sorrows were too numerous to submerge in their mugs. The youth thanked the Maker for the scarf over his nose and mouth so that he could stand the smell.  
“Where's our new friend?” Damien asked scanning the room.  
“Far wall, next to the window,” Kallian said. Damien spotted the elf she was talking about. His armor looked to be of high quality and the bow on his back would have fetched a small fortune from any weapon dealer. If the man had the skills to be trusted with such quality equipment, he would have been a great help to the villagers. Why wasn't he fighting?  
“Kallian, how do you feel about making a friend while I see what he has stashed in his pocket,” Damien said smirking at his companion.  
“You and Soris really are a lot alike. He would use me as a distraction too,” Kallian said crossing her arms and looking rather perturbed.  
“I would do it but I really don't have the curves to make it work. Tell you what, if he gets grabby, feel free to break his nose,” Damien said flexing his fingers and concentrating on finding any paper or object in the elf's pockets that might explain his presence in the village.  
“Fine, but if I have to punch him, I'm gonna punch you too,” Kallian snapped.  
“Noted. Let's get to work,” Damien said nodding to her.  
Kallian sauntered up to their target and gave a smile that nearly distracted Damien as she slipped into the chair next to the elf. Damien made his way across the tavern and focused his mind on the objects in his pocket. He reached out with his magic and took hold of a letter in the man's pouch and slipped it out unnoticed. Kallian was doing her best to keep the man's attention on her but the mysterious elf could not have been more cold. Damien was sure Kallian would have been the perfect distraction, but then again, maybe the elf was more into people of Damien's gender. The warden shrugged. No use worrying about it. What was done was done.  
Using a small lamp at the bar, Damien quickly opened the letter and did his best to read through it. Luckily, the words were fairly simple. The letter contained orders for the elf to keep an eye on the castle and report any changes while keeping his head down. It even referred to him by name at the top, 'Berwick'. Maker knew who this man was working for, but at least Damien had a name and a purpose for the elf.  
“Berwick! It's been a long time. How have you been?” Damien shouted tucking the letter in his pocket and pulling his scarf down. Keeping his hood up would keep his face hidden from the others in the tavern and possibly suggest that they were in the same line of work.  
“Who are you? How did you know my name?” Berwick snapped jumping to his feet.  
“I'm hurt. It's me, Daveth! From Denerim!” Damien said. I hope you can forgive me for this, Daveth. I need your ghost to protect me. Damien had used fake names before, but Daveth's was the first that came to mind when Berwick asked who he was and posing as his old, fallen friend left a sour taste in his mouth.  
“I don't know you, so leave me alone,” Berwick snarled as his hand gripped the handle of his dagger.  
“No need to be unpleasant. I was just wondering how your current job was going. You know, your scouting position,” Damien said pulling a chair up to Berwick's table. He looked over at Kallian and nodded to her hoping that she knew to play along.  
“I... what do mean by that?” the man replied lowering his voice and returning to his seat. He obviously was trying to keep to his orders to remain unseen despite Damien's announcement of his name to the whole tavern.  
“I mean, what changes were you supposed to report, because I think monsters attacking the village every night is a pretty big change. What do you think, Kari?” Damien said looking over at Kallian.  
“Sounds like a pretty big change to me,” Kallian responded smiling over at the warden-commander. Damien smiled back. Thank the Maker she understood what he was doing.  
“Shut up, how do you know about my job?” Berwick growled looking between Damien and Kallian.  
“I should have told you. My partner and I are thieves,” Damien said pulling his letter from his pocket.  
“When did you take that?” Berwick exclaimed opening his pouch.  
Damien stood and tapped the grips of his daggers. “Perhaps I should reintroduce myself. I'm Warden Commander Damien. If you value your life, you'll sit there and answer my questions. If you don't, I'll order you hog tied and left on the bridge as a distraction for the enemy we'll be facing tonight,” Damien stated lifting his scarf up over his nose and mouth again.  
Berwick looked completely dumbstruck by the statement. He started to move like he was doing to get up, but Kallian suddenly slammed her knife down into the table catching the sleeve of the elf's tunic.  
“Kalli, you should really watch your temper,” Damien said returning to his seat.  
“Just making sure he's cooperative. I plan on collecting what I'm owed,” Kallian responded. Damien smirked as he crossed his arms. She didn't seem to have a problem with him calling her 'Kalli'. It was certainly faster than saying Kallian.  
“Now that we have your attention, who do you work for?” Damien asked leaning forward slightly.  
“I... um... I was hired in Denerim by Arl Howe, but I think I'm indirectly working for Teyrn Loghain,' Berwick confessed.  
“Looks like Loghain might have been behind Arl Eamon's illness after all. Do you have any proof other than your testimony?” Damien asked standing up and walking behind him.  
“I have a pass from the Arl to get into a side gate of the Arl's mansion in Denerim, but that's it. They didn't give me anything with an official marker,” Berwick said turning his head trying to see where Damien was. The youth leaned forward so he was right next the the elf's ear.  
“Too bad,” Damien whispered causing the elf to jump and look at him with fear nearly spilling from his eyes.  
“Commander, what are you doing?” Alyssa asked from the door with Brax in tow.  
“Talking with a spy from Howe and Loghain who will be joining us in the fight to keep the village safe tonight,” Damien said patting Berwick on the shoulder hard enough that he almost knocked the man out of his chair. “Oh, Kalli, if our new friend tries to run away, break his legs and leave him on the bridge.”  
“Consider it done,” Kallian responded pulling her knife from Berwick's sleeve and sheathing it.  
Damien nodded and headed for the door waving for Alyssa to follow. Brax bark happily as Damien rubbed the mabari's ears as he passed.  
“What did you mean in there when you said that elf was a spy for Howe?” Alyssa asked. Damien could hear the anger boiling up inside her. Her voice had a slight quiver to it as she spoke. Damien could only imagine what the girl wanted to do to any of Howe's lackeys. Void take him, he wanted to rip the elf's throat out himself to avenge his friends, but for the moment, the elf was a larger asset alive rather than dead.  
“He was sent here to spy on the castle and report changes back to Howe and Loghain. We might be able to use this later, maybe even prove that Loghain had something to do with Arl Eamon's illness,” Damien said as he headed back toward the mill.  
“I guess I can understand that,” Alyssa stated reluctantly.  
“Good, as wardens, we have to put fighting the Blight first but if our own plans for vengeance mix in with that, I don't see a problem with killing two rats with one arrow,” Damien said sitting down in the grass and laying back against the building.   
“Isn't the phrase 'two birds with one stone'?” Alyssa asked sitting down next to him.  
“Yeah, but when you're talking about traitorous rats like Howe and Loghain, even implying that they are close to being birds is insulting to all bird kind,” Damien responded smiling as came over to him and laid his head down in the young commander's lap.  
Alyssa laughed as she nodded. “I certainly agree with that.”  
“So, while you were searching the town, did you find anything we could use?” Damien asked.  
“Well, I found an old sword locked away in a house. Sorry to say but I paid the children of the former owner of the sword so that I could take it. It's a very strong blade and apparently belonged to a dragon slayer not long ago,” Alyssa said.  
“I would have paid for a blade like that too. Something like that might come in handy when we face the archdemon, but what about supplies, armor, traps? Anything else we could use?” Damien asked.  
“There is a general store in town with a few barrels of oil. We could soak the slope leading from the bridge with it, or set it on fire,” Alyssa suggested.  
“I like it. Gather up a few volunteers from the militiamen in the tavern and get those barrels up here. I doubt we have much more time before sunset,” Damien answered.  
“On it Commander,” Alyssa responded standing and jogging away. Brax quickly jumped back to his feet and chased after his master as she ran.  
A fire trap with palisades and a strong, defensive line might be able to hold for a few hours, but if the enemy were to attack from any other direction, the troops he stationed near the bridge could get flanked. He would need to keep a strong defensive force near the chantry along with the force at the mill with the traps. Having a fast moving group of strong versatile fighters would probably be a good call too. He had his plan. Now all there was to do was complete their preparations and wait. That second part would be the most difficult to handle.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27  
“Preparations are complete, Damien. We'll light the oil on the slope as soon as the enemy begins to cross the bridge,” Alyssa reported. Damien sat with his back against the mill looking across the lake at the castle. Everything seemed so quiet, almost peaceful if it weren't for the eerie feeling clinging to the air.  
“Have the villagers gotten some rest?” Damien asked keeping his eyes on the castle.  
“We told them to get as much sleep as they could. Should we wake them?” Alyssa asked.  
“Wake the knights and Bann Teagan. We need to talk about the strategy. Gather everyone from our group up too,” Damien said pushing himself up onto his feet.  
“Where are we meeting?”  
“Here. We need to keep an eye on the castle this close to dusk,” Damien said adjusting his blades and pulling his scarf down to let some cooler air in.  
As Alyssa left, Damien found himself feeling restless. Keeping his eyes on the castle, he started to pace trying to give himself something to do while everyone was gathering but nothing helped. His hands shook as he took a few breaths but his mind kept poring over scenarios that could render his plans useless as well as what he could do to counter them. It all boiled down to how well their preparations and defenses held up. If they managed to beat back the tide, could they risk launching an attack on the castle like Damien had told Owen. Maker knew if the smith's daughter was even alive in there.  
Stop thinking so grimly. The preparations are done, the villagers now have the basic understanding of how to defend themselves, and the knights that were wounded are good enough to fight. The plan will work. Yet even with those thoughts screaming at him, Damien couldn't help doubting the solidity of their defense. If the beasts managed to cross the lake without using the bridge and attacked the docks, the only choke point that the villagers would be able to hold would be the main courtyard in front of the chantry.  
“Everyone is here, Commander Damien,” Bann Teagan said pulling the youth from his thoughts. Damien raised his scarf up over his nose and mouth once more and turned to face the group.  
“Right, Lyna keep watch on the castle but stay in ear shot. I'll need you to hear our plan of action,” Damien ordered.  
The young Dalish girl nodded and perched herself on top of a stack of hay bales so she could have a higher vantage point.  
“Now, the few Redcliffe knights that are with us will be stationed here at the mill. Your job is to engage and eradicate any of the enemy that makes it across the bridge and through the fire trap. Daylen, Sten, and Alyssa will support you here,” Damien ordered looking at the members of his team that he had assigned. “Alyssa, you are in command of this location.”  
The girl looked like she was about to faint. “Wait, why me?” Alyssa asked.  
“Because you can and I trust you,” Damien stated sternly. He quickly turned away trying to punctuate the point that there was not arguing about it. “Alistair, you will take command of the villagers stationed here at the chantry. Bann Teagan, you will be inside the building as our last line of defense with Wynne. Neria, you will be in charge of getting the wounded into the chantry. Morrigan, you are on the defensive line with Alistair and if you see the defenses starting to falter, jump in and push the enemy back.” Damien stopped and looked over at Morrigan. “By any means necessary.”  
Morrigan smirked and nodded that she understood. Damien knew her conventional magic was powerful, but her blood magic could beat most warriors as long as they were not trained templars. If things got bad, she would be their trump card.  
“What about the rest of us?” Kallian asked.  
“Kalli, Lyna, Leliana, and Brax will be with me. We're the fastest runners here. We'll be able to move between the two positions to give support. Morrigan, Daylen, if the lines start to collapse, send up red flares. I'll send help. Is everyone clear on the plan?” Damien asked looking around the group.  
“If our goal is to defend the chantry, why have so much distance between the two defense lines?” Bann Teagan asked.  
“Because when the enemy meets such strong resistance at the bridge, they might try a different approach and I want to be ready for it. The only other way to the village from the castle is to cross the lake. I'm sure the enemy hasn't tried it yet because they've been able to get into the village every night using the bridge, but I don't plan on letting a single one get past the mill,” Damien said looking around the group. Everyone nodded their agreement as Damien took a breath. “Alistair, if the enemy does start approaching from the docks, I want Morrigan to send up that flare immediately. I don't care how many there are. I need to know if they attack on both fronts.”  
“Fear not Damien, we will alert you,” Morrigan stated.  
Damien nodded before turning to look back at the castle. Everything was riding on them surviving the night and thinning the enemy numbers enough to attack. There was no way the villagers had the strength to fight more than one or two more days, even with Damien's group helping. Turning back to everyone gathered there, he saluted placing his fist against his chest.  
“Maker protect us. Wake everyone capable of bearing arms and get them to their positions. Dwyn and his mercenaries will be here at the mill. Alyssa, if he mouths off or tries to take command, just ask him if he wants his arms to stay attached and call Sten over, got it?” Damien asked smirking and glancing over at the qunari.  
“I'm not sure I understand, but okay,” Alyssa replied shrugging.  
“Alright everyone. Let's win this fight,” Damien shouted. A roar of approval echoed from the group in response as they moved to their positions. Damien whistled and Brax came bounding over to his side.  
“I have never seen a mabari take to anyone other than their master that fast,” Alyssa said kneeling in front of her hound. “Two timer.” The dog barked and licked her face.  
“I'm pretty sure that means you're still his favorite,” Damien said rubbing the dog's head as the hound barked happily.  
“How long until they start their advance do you think?” Kallian asked stepping to Damien's side.  
“The sun's light is almost gone. My guess would be half an hour, maybe an hour if we're lucky,” Damien responded.  
“I am glad we are staying to help. These people would not have survived much longer without us,” Leliana added as she tested her bow.  
“This is not just for the people in the village. This is so we can launch an attack on the castle itself,” Damien replied. “I fully intend to have control of Redcliffe castle again by tomorrow night.”  
“That's rather ambitious,” Lyna replied from her perch.  
“Really? Seemed like the most appropriate strategy to me,” Damien said turning back to the cliff that overlooked the village behind the mill. Fires sparked to life through the village so the archers could see and no enemy would sneak up on them. Damien could hear all the people moving around in the streets making last minute preparations and gathering up their armor and weapons. He hoped that he was wrong about the enemy possibly approaching from the lake, but the churning of his stomach told him that he was most likely right.  
The last hints of sunlight had very nearly faded leaving the starry sky behind, but what would have been a peaceful night immediately turned grim as greening fog started pouring from the castle and raced across the bridge.  
“This is exactly how it starts. Their first line will be crossing the bridge!” one of the knights shouted.  
“Daylen, light the oil!” Alyssa shouted. Damien drew his daggers as the mage launched a small fireball into the trap setting the entire slope ablaze.  
“Lyna, Leliana, ready your arrows. As soon as you see them, probe for kill points. Target the head first, then heart,” Damien ordered as the two women drew their bow strings.  
The enemy appeared at the top of the hill and to Damien's surprise resembled the corpses they had fought in the Circle Tower not a week earlier. Perhaps they had the same weaknesses... and if that were true, could their origin be the same as well? Born of blood magic and demons?  
Lyna loosed her arrow first burying the arrowhead deep in one of the corpses' heads and the creature immediately crumpled to the ground Leliana's arrow hit the chest where the heart would be, but the being only staggered for a moment before resuming the advance.  
“Alright everyone, the only way to beat these things is to score a direct hit to the head. Cut it off if you have to but piercing the skull is working,” Damien shouted. The defenders shouted their understanding almost in unison.  
“Damien, I really want to get in this fight,” Kallian said as her grip tightened around her daggers.  
“We hold and wait. There will be plenty for us to do as the night goes on. I'm sure off it. Remember, unlike a sparring match with Soris, this fight is a marathon. Don't waste energy with unnecessary movement,” Damien said thinking back to the battle at Ostagar. Most of the soldiers had rushed into the battle giving every ounce of energy they had to the initial push, but as the battle dragged on, most slowed down and were cut down because of it. That was the last thing they needed. If he could help it, they would not lose a single defender.  
“Daylen, they'll break through the fire in the next few minutes. Can you enchant our swords with fire?” Alyssa shouted back at the mage.  
“On it!” Daylen responded before starting to chant a spell.  
Flames wrapped around every blade and weapon they had as the main force of the enemy appeared. Damien could barely see them through the flames, but they certainly reminded him of the horde of darkspawn they had faced at Ostagar.  
The first few lines of enemies crumpled a few feet into the fire trap but as the enemy got closer and closer, the fire seemed to be affecting them less and less. Damien spotted exactly what was wrong. The bodies of the fallen were acting like a bridge and snuffing out the fire when they fell. Oil was simply not thick enough to light the second layer completely on fire and when the bodies slipped down the slick, flaming slope, they would drag the oil and fire with them. Even though this meant the defenses would have a wall of flaming corpses in front of the palisades, sooner or later the fire would go out. Judging from what he could see, they had an hour at most before the fire was completely out.   
“Alyssa, ready the group. The fire won't stop them for much longer,” Damien shouted moving forward with Kallian.  
“Shields at the front. Dwyn, take out any that make it over the palisades,” Alyssa shouted moving forward with the knights.  
“For the time being, I think a counterattack would work to our advantage,” Damien said to himself. “Daylen, extinguish the fire wall. If we let too many mass behind it the shield wall won't hold.”  
“I can use an ice spell and freeze the slope,” Daylen replied lifting his staff.  
“Alyssa, hold at the palisades. Sten, move forward with me and Kalli. Let's thin the herd,” Damien ordered charging forward. He could feel Daylen's spell falling on the flames forcing the blaze to subside. Before the flames were completely out, Damien launched himself over the pile of corpses and cut the head off the closest enemy. Using the momentum of the strike, he extended both arms and spun sideways turning himself into a blade wheel. His blade cut through another enemy from the top of its head to its chin throwing it harshly to the ground.  
Damien tried to not to think much about what else was going on around him. He needed to focus on eliminating the enemies one at a time as they confronted him. Block the incoming attack, counter with a head strike, and repeat over and over again. His mind filled with only one thought; kill the enemy, push them back, kill them, kill them all.  
“Damien!” a shout echoed around him kick-starting his mind. Looking around, Damien found himself completely alone near the top off the hill with a trail of corpses behind him. Sten and Kallian were still near the bottom of the hill with several enemies dead in front of them. Damien realized quickly that he had not only launched a counter attack, but slaughtered anything that was in his way. Turning from the new group of enemies that had just arrived, he immediately ran for the bottom where everyone else was, leaping over the palisades.   
“What in the Void were you thinking?” Lyna asked loosing another arrow.  
“That's the thing... I don't think I was. All that I remember is telling myself that I couldn't let a single one of those things past. That I had to keep killing them, one after another,” Damien said grabbing a canteen and taking a long drink.  
“Call it what you want, that was awesome,” Kallian said stepping to Damien's side as she wiped the blood form her blades.  
“Glad you enjoyed the show. So, now that we have some breathing room, has there been any word from the village group?” Damien asked handing the canteen to Kallian.  
“All quiet for now, but its still early,” Leliana reported firing an arrow up the hill.  
“Alright, we'll let Alyssa and her men take care of the defenses here for now. Call Sten back to take a breather. This is going to be a long night,” Damien said.  
For the next two hours, Damien and Alyssa pushed the enemy back over and over again, but the beasts would not stop coming. Three of the knights had been seriously injured along with one of Dwyn's mercenaries reducing their fighting force. Daylen had used up all his mana several times over and had nearly hit his limit on the amount of lyrium he could use. Despite being a type of fuel for magic, lyrium could cause side-effects if too much was taken. Damien could see it on the young mage's face. His hands were shaking and he had to be feeling sick to his stomach.  
“Hey, Daylen, lay down for a bit and get some rest. No more magic until your mana comes back on its own,” Damien ordered.  
“Commander, I can still fight,” Daylen protested.  
“You're no good to me if you pass out from exhaustion. Rest up and jump back in the fight when you've replenished your mana,” Damien snapped. The mage nodded reluctantly before sitting down against the mill and relaxing. Damien could tell that the youth would be out cold in a minute or two, if not less.  
“Damien, the waves against us are still coming, but they're lightening up. I think we can hold out,” Alyssa reported pointing to the slope.  
She was right. The number of enemy combatants had definitely fallen, but they still seemed just as determined as ever to break through.  
“Don't let your guard down. They could be massing for another large assault,” Damien replied adjusting his scarf and hood.  
“I'd hate to say it, but I think they might have been,” Lyna said pointing back to the village. Damien turned to see large red sparks shooting up from the square near the chantry.  
“Alyssa, hold the line here. If you think you can push through to the bridge, do it,” Damien ordered waving for his group to follow him and slapping his thigh so that Brax would follow.  
Sprinting down the hill toward the chantry, Damien could feel the enemy presence as it encroached on the defenders in the square like a thick fog. A taste on the air turned his stomach as the smell of the enemy's wet, dead soldiers grew ever stronger.  
“Leliana and Lyna, head straight for the defensive line. Kalli and Brax will come with me and we'll try to delay and thin the enemy numbers as best we can,” Damien ordered vaulting over a fence and drawing his daggers.  
“Be careful,” Leliana warned as she and Lyna split off heading for the group of scared defenders.  
Damien nodded as he closed the distance on the enemies. With a cross motion of his blades, he took the first beast's head off and kicked the body backward against another behind it.  
“Are you ready for this Kalli?” Damien asked as the girl buried one of her daggers into a corpse's head.  
“Been ready since we left the Spoiled Princess,” Kallian responded smirking back at him.  
“Let's see these skills I recruited you for.” Damien wiped the blood from his blades before charging a small group of corpses with Brax at his heels. He angled his body sideways as he used his momentum to spin, slicing a corpse from head to groin.  
“Damien, Kallian, take cover. The archers are about to fire,” Alistair shouted from the square.  
“Kalli, fall back to the defensive line with Brax. Let the archers thin them out,” Damien ordered as he finished off another enemy and hurled one of his throwing knives into the forehead of the last one close to him.  
They made it back to the shield wall the villagers were holding as the archers loosed a volley onto the enemy forces. Damien watched the enemy's numbers decrease before a feeling in the pit of his stomach drew his attention to another road. He couldn't see them very well in the moonlight, but they definitely were there, a separate unit of corpses heading their way.  
“Alistair, leave command of the shield wall to Murdock. Lyna, stay here and command the archers. Morrigan, focus your magic on the corpses coming from the left. Leliana will support you with her bow. Kalli, Alistair, and I will engage the new enemies approaching on the right. Keep those bastards back. Once we have beaten them back, we'll return to the defense line,” Damien ordered. Using his magic, he vaulted over the palisades and took off at a dead sprint down the road toward the new enemies.  
“Damn you, Damien. Don't just-” Lyna shouted after him, but the rest of her protest was lost as Damien let out a roar of adrenaline and rage, leaping straight into the fight. He drove the heel of his boot into the chest of one of the corpses before spinning and driving his left dagger up under an enemy's chin and through the beast's skull.  
They had to hold. Only a few more hours. They just had to beat these beasts back. Maker, he had never prayed so hard for the sun to rise.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28  
The first light of dawn had just started to force the stars to fade when the enemy waves stopped. Damien could barely catch his breath as he bandaged a minor wound on his upper left arm. He had gotten careless, or maybe overtired, close to the end of the battle and a corpse caught him in the arm with a dull sword. Perched on the chantry steps, he finished tying the bandage and lowered his scarf to help him breathe a little easier.  
“I can't believe we made it through the night yet again,” Bann Teagan stated patting Damien on the shoulder.  
“I know. It's a miracle. How are the wounded doing?” Damien asked pulling his hood a little lower. He still felt uncomfortable with anyone seeing his face, but the motion was more out of habit than anything else.  
“We had fewer casualties last night than any night before. Alas, there were three dead, but only six wounded and they will recover thanks to the healing magic of your mages and the poultices that you supplied,” the bann said smiling and sitting down next to the young warden-commander.  
“Three dead?” Damien said lowering his eyes. “I was hoping to have no casualties but at least we won and pushed the enemy back. I think this will give us the time we need to get into the castle and find whatever is causing this.”  
“I agree. Gather your people and meet me by the mill in an hour or so. We can discuss our strategy then,” Bann Teagan said standing and heading out into the square.   
As Damien watched the noble leave, he started to get the feeling that the man wasn't telling him everything. Bann Teagan couldn't be involved in these incidents, could he? Of course not, if he had, then he would have just let the people die instead of organizing a defense. But what about whatever is happening inside the castle? Could he be keeping something about that from them? Only one way to find out.  
Damien pushed himself up onto his feet despite his joints complaining and his mind feeling nearly blank from exhaustion. Maybe they would have enough time for him to grab an hour to sleep or so before attacking the castle.  
“Damien, how's the arm?” Neria asked meekly. Despite her role as a healer in the battle, she still didn't have much confidence in herself.  
“It's alright. The bandage should be good enough to hold and get me back in the fight,” Damien said standing and smiling at the young mage.  
“Alright, well... everyone inside is stable and Chantry brothers and sisters are taking over care,” Neria said leaning on her staff slightly.  
“Is everyone getting some rest?” Damien asked.  
“Wynne is taking care of Alyssa's arm where she got scratched but other than them, everyone is asleep,” Neria reported.  
“Good, they'll need the rest. Is Alyssa going to able to keep fighting?” Damien asked.  
“I think so,” Neria answered softly. Damien nodded. Neria was certainly a very timid and sweet girl, but being out in the world after growing up in the Circle Tower must have been overwhelming and shook any kind of confidence the girl might have had in her abilities both as a healer and a mage. Damien would have to help her with that if she was going to be an effective member of the team.  
“Thank you Neria. You did a great job last night. Get some rest while you can,” Damien said smiling at the young, elf girl before making his way toward their cart behind the chantry.  
He searched through their gear and found a small potion meant to ward off sleep for a few hours. It wasn't something that he would normally turn to, but his body ached and every fiber of his being begged and pleaded for him to rest, even for just a moment. He sighed and downed the potion quickly, nearly gagging on the bitterly disgusting flavor of the blue-green liquid.  
It would take some time for the potion to take effect but he could meet with Bann Teagan, figure out what was happening, and tell the team after they had their rest. He grabbed two more of the vials from the cart and slipped them into his pocket just in case the fight in the castle went on longer than he hoped.  
Trudging his way back up the slope to the mill, Damien started feeling the effects of the potion. HE felt slightly more alert but a slight tingling sensation had filled the tips of his fingers and toes. He had never felt anything like it. As good as it felt, he didn't like it. He knew his grip on his daggers would not be as good and he had no idea as to how the potion might have affected his magic. He really had not thought the whole thing through before drinking the concoction.  
Damien sat down on a hay bale next to the mill door as he used the wall to rest his back against. He looked across the lake at the castle trying to catch any sign of movement within, but still nothing. He started drawing the floor plan of the castle that he could see but it was little more than the outer walls and walkways along them. He would need someone who knew the castle to help guide them through. That meant that either Alistair was coming along or Bann Teagan. The Bann was probably the better choice. He had lived in Redcliffe far longer and more recently that Alistair. Besides, knowing Alistair's special situation, Damien assumed they would need to use Alistair's heritage as an advantage on down the line whether they liked it or not, so risking him on such a dangerous mission could probably be counted as foolish.  
It did not take long for the Bann and the rest of his team to show up at the mill. Damien had managed to keep himself busy by inspecting his armor and sharpening his daggers with the potion worked through his body. His body did still feel heavy, but he could tell his senses had sharpened and the fatigue of the night's battle was little more than an afterthought. He silently hoped that the potion would last long enough for them to get into the castle and take care of things. More than anything else, he simply did not want to have to drink another one of those disgusting vials.  
“Good, you're here,” Bann Teagan said patting Damien on the shoulder as his group groggily dragged themselves toward them.  
“The castle awaits. What's the plan?” Damien asked making sure his throwing knives were settled on his back properly.  
“There is a secret passage that leads into the castle dungeon from here. I would have used it sooner but this is the first time that we were not fighting corpses when the sun came up,” the bann explained tapping his signet ring with his fingers.  
“That makes things easier, but we'll need to distract whatever is making the corpses somehow,” Damien said rubbing his chin. He glanced back at the group and cocked his head. “I say we put Alistair in a dress and make him dance the Remigold. A shimmy from him near the portcullis and everything, living or dead, inside the castle will either be mesmerized or laughing to hard to notice us.”   
“I'm too tired to fight you on this. Fine,” Alistair replied yawning.  
“Perfect. Leliana, Alyssa, see if you can find a dress for him,” Damien said winking at the girls so they knew to play along.  
“I think he would look good in a soft blue with yellow trim,” Leliana said circling the former templar.  
“I'm sure we could find some make-up in the village somewhere,” Alyssa added.  
“Too far!” Alisitair shouted. “Too far!”  
The group burst into laughter, even the bann chuckled. Damien sighed and patted his friend on the shoulder.  
“Okay, now that we're awake, let's get serious. Secret passage or not, all of us moving through the passage would be too loud. Bann Teagan will lead the way with Daylen using a fire spell to light the way. Myself, Lyna, Kallian, and Neria will follow along behind. Alistair, you take command of the rest and wait at the gate. We'll open it from the other side and you'll join us on main assault on the castle. Gather any knights that are rested enough to fight,” Damien ordered.  
“That works for...” Bann Teagan began before his voice trailed off. “Maker's breath.”  
Damien glanced over at the man before following his sight line to see a woman in fine clothes running toward them with a guard close behind. Her clothes looked to be in good repair and the guard's armor was undamaged. Nothing like how they would have looked if there had been fighting inside the castle. Something was very wrong here.  
“Teagan, thank the Maker you yet live,” the woman said taking the bann's hands in her own. The undeniable accent in her voice announced her as Orlesian. He had heard a few years earlier that Arl Eamon had married a well-to-do noble from Orlais, meaning this must have been Lady Isolde, Arlessa of Redcliffe.  
“Isolde, you're alive... how... what has happened?” Teagan stammered. Damien eyed the guard. He could feel a power wafting off the man like a sick odor. He had felt things like this before in the Circle Tower but nothing on this scale.  
“I do not have much time to explain. I slipped away from the castle as soon as I saw the battle was over and I must return quickly. And I need you to return with me, Teagan. Alone,” the arlessa stated. That clenched it. There was something very wrong inside the castle and if even half of the ideas running through Damien's head were even remotely accurate, they were in for a fight for the history tomes.  
“Right, why don't we bend over and spell 'run' while we're at it?” Damien whispered to Alistair who slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from bursting into fits of laughter. The young commander stepped forward quickly putting himself between the arlessa and Teagan.  
“What are you doing? Who is this man, Teagan?” Lady Isolde snapped looking Damien over.  
“He is the Commander of the Grey, Isolde. I owe him and those with him my life,” Teagan stated motioning to the rest of the group.  
“You remember me don't you, Lady Isolde?” Alistair said having calmed down enough to speak.  
“Alistair? Of all the... Why are you here?” Isolde snipped. Damien cleared his throat.  
“The same thing that I am. Saving your villagers from certain death brought on them by something going on inside that castle,” Damien snarled pointing at the building behind him. “Now, you are going to give us the short version as quickly as possible or I'm going to have take the castle by force and kill anything and anyone that resists. If you don't think I can do it, ask the bann.”  
Damien hoped his little bluff would loosen her tongue enough for them to get at least some kind of idea of what was going on.  
“I know you need answers but I am not sure what is safe to tell,” Isolde answered wringing her hands. Damien eyed the guard behind her. He was not watching any of them, his eyes were on the arlessa and only her.  
“Like I said, the short version,” Damien said crossing his arms.  
“There is a great evil in the castle. The dead rise and hunt the living. The mage responsible was caught, but still it continues. And, I think Connor is going mad. He will not flee the castle.” The woman shook slightly as if an icy breeze had breathed down her neck. She turned back to Teagan and tried to approach him. “He has seen so much death. You could reason with him Teagan. You are his uncle.”  
“What about the Arl? Is Arl Eamon still alive?” Damien demanded stepping in her path once more.  
“Yes. He has been kept alive thus far, thank the Maker,” Isolde replied. The answer unsettled Damien even more than the youth had expected.  
“Kept alive? What do you mean kept alive? Kept alive by what?” Teagan asked.  
“Something the mage unleashed. It has allowed Eamon, Connor, and myself to live so far. The others were not as fortunate. Once it was done with the castle, it turned the corpses in to nightmares and struck the village,” she explained. “It only allowed me to come for you Teagan because I begged. I said that Connor needed help.”  
“Why would this thing care about Connor? If it has killed everyone else, what about your guard there?” Damien asked as his fingers wrapped around the grips of his blades. Everyone else in the group grasped their weapons as well.  
“Hold, please my friend,” Teagan said grabbing Damien's shoulder. “Isolde, give me a moment.” The bann pulled Damien aside and slipped his signet ring into Damien's hand.  
“What are you doing?” Damien asked in a hushed tone.  
“We needed a distraction to get you and your team inside. I can provide it now from inside the gate. Take Alistair to lead you through the castle. He knows it. Your first priority is to rescue my brother,” Teagan answered.  
“Did you take a club to the head last night? All we know is that woman came to take you to the castle. She claims that a mage was behind all this, but if that's true, why didn't it stop when he was captured?” Damien asked.  
“I will leave that to you. It is better to risk just me on the distraction then several others. Please, commander. Rescue my brother,” Teagan begged.  
“Fine, we'll move into the secret passage as soon as you two are out of sight. Nothing else about the plan is changing. I plan to rescue everyone still alive in there, so keep your noble butt alive, understand?” Damien whispered patting the bann on the back before turning back to the arlessa.  
“I will go with you Isolde,” Teagan stated.  
“You can't be serious,” Alistair protested.  
“Alistair, if the bann has decided then that's it. There's nothing we can do. Let him go and hope this doesn't prove to be a trap,” Damien said eyeing the woman and tapping the grips of this blades with his fingers.  
“But,” Alistair started, but Lyna placed hand on his chest stopping him as the Arlessa and Teagan headed up the hill toward the bridge.  
Damien watched for only an extra second after they vanished from sight before immediately turning to the mill door.  
“How could you let him go? If Eamon... we need Bann Teagan now more than ever,” Alistair protested.  
“Do you really think I'm going to let anything happen to either of them? You know me better than that. You're taking point on the infiltration team to lead us through the castle. Leliana, find some cloth that we can use to keep his armor quiet and help wrap him up. Everyone else, same assignments. We're on the job people, move with a purpose,” Damien ordered throwing open the mill door and starting the search for the secret passage.  
“I thought you might have something up your sleeve,” Alyssa said crossing her arms in the doorway.  
“Yes, I'm a blighted genius. You're going to be taking over command of the gate group. Make sure you are ready for a fight,” Damien said looking back at the noble.  
“Don't worry. It's under control,” Alyssa responded.  
Damien smiled and turned back to the floor as his hand ran over an indent with a symbol matching the signet ring. He slipped the engraved piece of jewelry into the indention and twisted causing dust to pop up from the floor around him as the locks released on the trap door.  
“Easy as stealing gems from a mansion,” Damien said lifting the door.  
“Speaking from experience?” Kallian asked stepping to his side and peeking down into the dark.  
“Of course. I am the Dark Wolf after all,” Damien replied as the rest of the team filed in. Alistair had several small bits of white cloth tied all along his armor to keep it from making much noise but it made him look like he had a bunch bows decorating him instead.  
“Don't you look all festive and pretty,” Damien teased.  
“I know,” Alistair replied starting down the ladder.  
“Be ready to get wet. This tunnel goes under the lake. I wouldn't be surprised if parts were a little damp,” Damien said as Daylen started down the after Alistair.  
“Just as long as there aren't that many rats, I'll be fine,” Daylen replied.  
“Rats? I hate rats,” Neria said shivering.  
“I'll tell you what, stay quiet and I'll kill every rat that gets near you,” Kallian said smiling and patting Neria on the back before following Daylen down.  
“What about me?” Damien jested.  
“You can kill your own,” Kallian teased back.


	29. Chapter 29

Damien could feel the magic all around him as the group advanced. It hung thick in the air like a fog of bitter, cold mist snaking its way across his skin. Goosebumps raised along both arms as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.  
“Can you feel that?” Daylen asked looking back at the group as he held his staff out in front of him with a small fire floating over the top.  
“Feel what?” Kallian asked.  
“There's a presence here and it's not friendly at all,” the young mage responded.  
“He's right. It's strong enough I can feel it without focusing too hard, but I'm sure our fearless leader has been feeling it since we got down here,” Alistair said from the front.  
“Actually, I knew something was wrong when we entered the main gate of the village yesterday, but the feeling I'm getting here is so strong... it's like I could choke on it if I breathe too deep,” Damien replied rubbing the back of his head.  
“Senses like that, how did you avoid growing up in the circle?” Neria asked meekly from behind him.  
“Growing up on the streets as a thief does have a few perks. Avoiding authority figures becomes second nature,” Damien explained smiling back at her as the group continued forward.  
The walls of the passageway shimmered in the the fire light as moisture and algae colored it all over. The path began sloping up until they came to a ladder leading up into darkness. Damien could feel the power around them and it was very strong. They were definitely under the castle.  
“I go up first with Lyna behind me. We'll make sure the area is safe then everyone else follow,” Damien said squeezing past the group and taking hold of the ladder.  
“I could go up first instead,” Kallian offered.  
“Thanks, but aren't you supposed to be killing rats down here for Neria?” Damien asked smirking.  
“Jerk,” Kallian answered bluntly with a slight smile.  
Damien ascended and pushed the door open slowly, hoping the hinges would not squeal too much. Sadly, the iron had rusted and groaned loudly as the youth pushed the hatch open just enough to peek out at the surrounding area. To his relief, there were no guards on duty and no corpses nearby. The area holding their entrance appeared large enough to fight in if necessary and only had one way in, a door on the far side of the room.  
Easing open the trapdoor the rest of the way, Damien pulled himself up carefully, making sure not to hit the stone floor with his daggers. Creeping like a cat stalking its prey, the youth closed the distance between him and door quickly and in complete silence as Lyna drew herself up onto the floor. Damien pressed his ear to the door and closed his eyes. If he concentrated hard enough, he should be able to hear anything or anyone moving around in the next room. Although feeling the magic animating the corpses would also work too. He had to focus hard to judge where the sounds and magic was coming from. A slight mistake could spell disaster for a silent operation like this one.  
Damien signaled for Lyna to call everyone up as he opened the door a crack to double check the next room.  
“Maker, do you feel that? I've never felt anything so horrible,” Neria whispered holding her staff to her chest.  
“This isn't any different than the harrowing. Just keep your mind clear. We can do this,” Daylen assured her as he clambered out of the trap door.  
“The next room is empty. Alistair, you're up front with me. Lyna and Kalli are rear guard with Daylen and Neria in the center. Try to keep the noise to a minimum,” Damien said pulling the door open and drawing his daggers.  
“We're in the storage room in the dungeons,” Alistair said looking around stepping to Damien's side.  
“Admire the decor later,” Damien whispered moving forward slowly. He wondered what was going through Alistair's mind being back in the castle he grew up in. Damien found himself thinking about what Alistair's life might have been like if he had been a legitimate son to King Marric instead of a bastard. Feasts, parties, and a noble title. The goofy templar by his side may very well have been killed at Ostagar with his brother if that had been the case, and most likely would not have had templar training, or joined the Grey Wardens. Of course, that got him thinking about whether or not Cailan knew that Alistair was his half brother. The former king had gone out of his way to send Alistair to the Tower of Ishaal, what would have been the safest place in the battle if things had gone to plan.   
“Hold,” Alistair whispered holding up his hand. Damien stopped short and dropped to one knee. His ears picked up the sound of shuffling steps from multiple people just around the corner of the next hallway.  
“Good catch,” Damien whispered back creeping forward to the corner. Peeking his head around, he spotted three corpses reaching through the bars of a cell trying to get to someone or something inside. He turned back to the group waving for them to follow him but he had no intention of letting the corpses get close enough to engage his team.  
Using his magic, he threw himself forward at a flying sprint drawing his daggers. The blades ripped through two of the creatures before they had a chance to notice he was there. The third turned to face him just in time for the young commander to drive both blades down through its eye sockets silencing them completely.  
“Maker be praised. I didn't think anyone would come,” a man said from behind the bars. Damien raised an eyebrow as he looked up. The man inside the cell wore long robes covered in blood, mud, and torn to ribbons. The smell said the man had been imprisoned for several days, but the air around the man reeked of old blood. Even with the grotesque look and rank smell, there was only one thing that held Damien's attention.  
“You're a maleficar, a blood mage, aren't you?” Damien asked crossing his arms as the rest of his comrades joined him.  
“Jowan? What in the Void are you doing here?” Daylen exclaimed.  
“You know this blood mage?” Alistair asked looking over at the mage.  
“He was a friend from the circle before he tricked me into helping him destroy his phylactery so he could escape,” Daylen snarled. Damien sighed and looked back at the young mage.  
“So, he's not trustworthy?” Damien asked looking back at the blood mage.  
“No, he's not,” Daylen snapped. If looks could kill, Jowan would have been dead ten times over.  
“Too bad. We could have used another mage, especially...” Damien stopped as something the Arlessa said slipped back into his mind.  
“Especially what?” Lyna asked as all eyes turned to their leader.  
“The arlessa said that the mage behind all this was caught. Jowan, are you responsible for the corpse attacks on the village?” Damien asked raising his daggers once more.  
“No, I have nothing to do with it. All I did was poison the Arl, but that was where all the trouble started,” Jowan confessed lowering his eyes.  
“You poisoned the Arl?” Alistair snarled taking a threatening step forward.  
“How did a maleficar get close enough to the Arl to poison him?” Damien asked crossing his arms.  
“Why would that matter? This bastard deserves death,” Alistair snapped. Damien quickly turned and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.  
“Alistair, calm down. I know you are close with the Arl, but think strategically. I assume that since he escaped from the Circle, Templars were looking for him, right? So then, how would a wanted fugitive get into a castle with hundreds of guards and soldiers around and poison the Arl? Someone must have sent him to do this. I doubt he has a personal motive to kill Arl Eamon,” Damien explained before turning back to Jowan. “So, how about? What's your story?”  
Jowan looked scared, like a chicken walking past a butcher shop. Every eye in the group honed in on him and only him. The pressure would get to even a seasoned actor. Add in the exhaustion and torture and there were plenty of ways to trip the mage up if he tried to lie.  
“I didn't make it very far before I was captured by a few templars. They took me to Denerim but a noble there met with me and said I could earn my freedom if I would poison the arl,” Jowan started. Damien glanced over at Alistair hoping that he would not have to stop his friend from interrupting again. If Jowan confirmed what Damien had started to suspect from Berwick's note, they might have the evidence they needed to take down Teyrn Loghain.  
“The arlessa was looking for a mage to secretly tutor her son in hiding his magic, so I was provided,” Jowan continued.  
“But Connor isn't a mage,” Alistair protested.  
“He had started to show signs of magical sensitivity. To make sure the circle didn't take him, she searched for a mage that was not part of the circle,” Jowan answered.  
“Seems like she could have made a better choice. But that doesn't explain why all of this is happening. Honestly, you don't seem powerful enough to raise the armies the village has been fighting,” Damien said sheathing his blades.  
“All I did was poison the Arl. The first I heard of the attacks was when the Arlessa came down and tortured me, demanding I stop the attacks,” Jowan exclaimed.  
“In that case, you're of no use to us,” Damien said turning back to the group. “Leave him. Our objective is to find the source of the magic that is raising the corpse army and eliminate it.” The group nodded and quickly moved on leaving Damien alone with Jowan only long enough for Damien to whisper one thing.  
“If I call on you, you answer. I saved your life, therefore, you belong to me,” Damien stated quietly giving the blood mage a harsh look. Jowan nodded quickly. Damien nodded back and took off after his comrades. Jowan's testimony may not have been enough to link Loghain to Arl Eamon's poisoning, but that along with Berwick's note might be. Although, Jowan's testimony would not be trusted very much since he was a fugitive and a blood mage. To add credit to his story, they would need the templars that were escorting him to testify as well, if Loghain had let them live.  
“Damien, I can feel some very powerful enemies up ahead,” Daylen said as Damien fell in step beside him.  
“My turn,” Kallian stated drawing her blades and looking back at Damien for approval.  
“Alistair, defend the mages. Daylen, keep your spells small and keep to mainly support magic. Neria, watch for injuries and do your best to warn us if something comes up behind us. Lyna, cover Kalli and me,” Damien ordered as he nodded to Kallian and followed her around the corner, but the enthusiasm that had driven Kallian forward quickly vanished as full fledged demons blocked their path.  
“Daylen, enchantments on our weapons now!” Damien shouted lowering his body and raising his daggers. “Kalli, flank left, go!”  
The young elf girl hesitated for only half a second before flying forward. Flames encircled their weapons as Damien kicked off the wall and launched himself high enough to bring both blades down on one of the beasts. Another demon moved in on him and swung its clawed hands at him. Damien ripped the blades from the first target and fell backward doing his best to avoid the beast's strike. Digging his heels into the floor, he pushed himself back and hugged his blades to his chest as the demon's claws scraped along the length of the blade sending up sparks as it passed. Somersaulting backward, Damien landed on his feet and immediately charged back in. Slashing forward with his blades, he separated a demon's arm from its body. Suddenly, a demon caught him on the chest and hurled him back ripping his armor and tunic down to his skin. He expected to collide with the wall or the floor, but instead felt someone catch him.  
“Are you alright, Damien?” Lyna asked pushing him back up onto his feet.  
“Yes, thanks for the catch,” Damien replied touching his chest. How could he have let that happen? Usually he would have seen an attack aimed at his chest before the strike got close, but that time he had not realized it until the demon had already connected. Could he be losing focus because of his lack of rest? Could those potions be wearing off, or was this a side-effect of the potions themselves? Damien took a quick breath and spun his daggers in his hands. His chest stung as sweat soaked his tunic and seeped into his open wounds.  
Damien watched as Kallian held her own against the creatures. She had not killed any yet, but she had not been hit either. She seemed to be delivering small injuries, killing the beasts with hundreds of small cuts unlike Damien's style of going for the vulnerable points with strong heavy strikes while using his agility to avoid the enemy. Although they used the same type of weapons, their styles could not have been more different.  
Heat started to build up in the hall as two rage demons rose from the floor. The monsters looked like red hot coals with flaming eyes and mouths. Glancing at his daggers covered in flames, Damien sighed looking back at Daylen.  
“I've got these!” Daylen shouted stepping forward and unleashing a spell of wind so cold and strong it froze the demons solid. Damien rushed forward as the enchantment on his daggers disappeared. He buried the blades into the frozen beasts causing them to shatter into a pile of steaming pieces.  
The shades moved in on them despite Kallian's attempts to hold them at bay. Alistair jumped into the melee using his templar techniques to weaken the demons before cutting them down. Damien drove his daggers into one of the last of the creatures reducing it to ash on the floor, but his mind started to fog and he suddenly became extremely dizzy. He fell back to the rest of the group and let Kallian, Alistair, and Lyna finish the last shade.  
“Are you alright?” Neria asked examining Damien's chest as he slumped against the wall.  
“Yeah, just a little tired I guess,” the youth replied pulling one more of the potions from his pouch.  
“What are you doing with that?” Neria snapped snatching the vial away from him. Damien cocked his head to the side and his knees gave out and he slid down to the floor.  
“What? I just keeps me awake,” Damien said reaching out to try and grab it again.  
“It only lasts for a few hours and it's very addictive,” Neria protested keeping it out of his reach.  
“Good to know, but right in the middle of a fight is not the best time to be falling asleep,” Damien argued.  
“Maker's breath Damien, if you were that tired you should have told us,” Alistiar said taking the potion from Neria so she could examine Damien's injured chest.  
“Have you forgotten that Bann Teagan came into the castle alone to distract our enemy for us? We didn't have time to rest. We don't have time for arguing either. Just one more vial then I'm done. I'll get some good sleep and we can sell whatever is left of it in the wagon, deal?” Damien stated. He knew how horrible it sounded. He had been around addicts before. Pyre ash had been a very big hallucinogen several years before and the junkies had all said the same thing. 'One more then I'm done' or 'I'll get clean after this one'. It was always one more. But this wasn't that kind of situation, he need to be awake and sharp to keep his team moving and alive.  
“How about this instead?” Neria asked meekly as a green light shone from her hand over his chest. Damien could feel his energy returning and the dizziness cleared away.  
“What was that?” Damien asked touching his chest. He found the wounds still sore but closed.  
“It's regeneration magic. It does the same thing as the potion without the side effects, but I can only cast it once on a person a day or it can damage their muscles and brain,” Neria explained with a hint of pride in her voice.  
“By the Void, I feel pretty good now. Thank you Neria. I might have to recruit you into the Wardens just like Daylen if you keep this up,” Damien said pushing himself back up to his feet.  
“Thank you Commander,” Neria replied smiling.  
000  
Damien's chest burned as sweat rolled over the still raw skin where the shade had scratched him. Alistair had a large cut across his back from a corpse that caught him off guard during another one of their skirmishes and Lyna had taken a fireball to the shoulder from a rage demon. Neria had treated the burn but it still hurt her to raise her bow.  
“Once we're in the courtyard, the portcullis pulley will be on the right side of the gate,” Alistair said as the group lined up at the door.   
They had taken the long way around which had been littered with enemies, but they had avoided confronting their main enemy in the great hall since Damien had wanted to handle that particular mess with the entire group. He assumed strength in numbers would be their best bet against a necromancer capable of raising such large armies of corpses.  
“As soon as we're through the door, Lyna and Neria, head for the pulley and open the gate. Everyone else, keep the enemy off them until the gates are open,” Damien ordered. Everyone nodded and drew their weapons.  
The door swung open and the group charged forward into the light of day, but the darkness of their foe awaited them. Nearly a dozen corpses blocked their path commanded about a revenant wielding one of the largest swords Damien had ever seen.  
“Remember the plan!” Damien shouted sprinting forward. He knew that none of his companions were in top fighting shape. Half of them were wounded and the rest were exhausted. If the gate was not opened quickly, they would be overrun and killed.  
Damien hurled himself over the line of corpses and immediately engaged the revenant trying to take out the most powerful enemy as quickly as he could.  
Despite wielding such a large weapon, the demon swung the blade with such ease and power Damien could not out maneuver it even with his magic. He ducked, jumped backward, somersaulted, and dodged to avoid the death dealing blade, but the revenant pursued like a blood thirsty, rabid animal.  
Although he was managing to stay an inch or two ahead of the weapon, Damien could not find a window to launch his own attack. Suddenly, the revenant swung a blow meant for his middle. Damien crossed his daggers in front of him hoping to block the strike. The demon's weapons connected with such force it send the youth flying backward. For a split second, Damien thought he might be able to recover, but the rough landing against the cobblestones of the courtyard disagreed. He bounced off the stones violently, rolling his body trying not to hit the same spots over again, but he stopped suddenly as his back and shoulders collided with a fence post.  
“Damien!”  
He could hear the shouting from everyone else as he watched the revenant approach him. Maker, was he about to die? Was this all his life had led up to, dying in the Redcliffe Castle courtyard while his friends watched?  
Damien only blinked and his dismal situation had changed. The armored boots of his qunari comrade had appeared in front of him as the warrior crossed blades with the revenant and drove the beast back away from Damien. A warm light appeared accompanied by muddy, enchanter robes.  
“You have made quite a mess of yourself,” Wynne said sitting Damien up against the post.  
“Good, the rest of you made it in,” Damien wheezed trying to catch his breath. Wynne lowered his scarf from his nose and mouth and Damien could see blood staining the inside. He lifted his fingers to his lips and found a few small cuts that stung from the sweat on his face and hands. There was one more place that hurt but he didn't want Wynne trying to bench him when they were so close to figuring out what was going on. AS the old mage examined his back and shoulder, Damien touched the back of his head and found the inside of his hood and his scarf both covered in his own blood from a small gash on the back of his head. If Wynne saw that wound, she would have demanded that he stay out of the final fight for sure. He could survive for a bit longer. It wouldn't take more than an hour to find the source of the necromancy and silence it, at least, he hoped not.


	30. Chapter 30

The wardens and their companions all stood in the main hall of Redcliffe Castle in utter dismay as Bann Teagan jumped and danced around like a jester. A boy standing in the place of honor in front of the main table was clapping his hands with glee. That must have been Arl Eamon's son Connor. Next to him, the Arlessa stood slouched like a whipped puppy.  
“What in the name of Andraste's knickers is going on here?” Damien shouted forcing every eye to him. If they were going to have to fight, he'd rather go ahead and kick it off than wait. His wounds were zapping his energy and he doubted very much that he would be able to stay upright for much longer.  
“So these are our visitors, the ones you told me about mother?” the boy said. Damien's skin crawled at the sound of the child's voice. Two distinct voices spoke in unison from the child's mouth completely in sync.  
“Y-yes Connor,” Isolde said keeping her eyes glued to the floor.  
“And this is the one that defeated my soldiers, the ones I sent to reclaim my village?” the boy declared locking eyes with Damien and gesturing to the warden commander.  
“Absolutely, you little shit,” Damien snapped.  
“Insolence. It stands before me. Breathing... not dying... What is it, mother?” Connor demanded.  
“This is just a man, like your father,” Isolde said softly. Damien could feel his skin crawling as the boy raised an eyebrow.  
“I'm tired of hearing about him. He is nothing like father! I should kill it!” Connor snarled. Damien's hands flashed to his daggers. The blades bore their own wounds from their constant battles and were in dire need of servicing if not replacement, but they would be more than enough to end this situation.  
Damien stopped himself making himself wait and watch. Was he really ready to spill a child's blood himself? Could he even give the order to kill him?  
“Connor, I beg you. Don't hurt anyone,” Isolde pleaded. The sorrow in her voice had almost spiraled into despair. She must have seen the way Damien and his allies were looking at the boy with their hands on their weapons.  
“Mother? What... what's happening?” the boy whimpered. Damien's eyes grew wide as the boy looked around and held his head. The second voice was gone and all that remained with that of a scared little boy. Was Connor still trying to hang on to his mind or was the demon's hold on him weak for some reason?  
“Thank the Maker. Connor, can you hear me?” the woman pleaded as the young warden-commander took a few small steps forward.  
“Get away from me woman!” the dual voice roared sending the arlessa stumbling backward. Damien took a large step forward and lowered his stance ready to spring forward if the demon tried to attack anyone.  
“I'm starting to understand what happened here. Connor is the evil that you spoke of, or at least the demon inside him is. Why not just say 'Connor is possessed'? That would have made this a thousand times easier,” Damien stated. His vision had started to blur as he felt more blood running down the back of his neck. He probably should have had Wynne stop the bleeding outside instead of insisting on getting into the great hall quickly.  
“No, don't say that!” the woman screamed.  
“Denial won't make the demon go away,” Damien snapped.  
“From all of the teachings and training I was given, the only way to purge a demon from a possessed mage is to...” Alistair's voice trailed off. Damien knew the templar way of dealing with possession, and to be perfectly, brutally honest, that was the only way he knew of too.  
“Connor is not at fault. The mage, the one that poisoned Eamon, he summoned this demon. Connor was just trying to help his father,” the arlessa pleaded. Damien kept his eyes glued to the young abomination still keeping a firm grip on his daggers.  
“So the boy made a deal with a demon and sundered the veil. Foolish child,” Morrigan stated. She sounded so relaxed about the whole situation. How many abominations had she tangled with?  
“It was a fair deal!” the demon roared sending vibrations through the entire hall.  
“Fair for whom?” Damien snarled.  
“Father is alive. Now it is my turn to sit on the throne and send out armies to conquer the world!” Connor raged before laughing maniacally.  
“It takes a lot more than blind ambition to be a ruler, demon,” Wynne snapped.  
“Enough! This man ruined my fun, but now I will repay him,” Connor snarled as the guards drew their weapons and advanced. Bann Teagan stood as well drawing his own blade.  
“These men are bewitched. Disarm and neutralize them. No killing or serious injuries,” Damien said drawing his daggers.  
The group sprang into action. They both outnumbered and outclassed the castle guards and the bann. The fight only lasted about ten seconds, but the moment the tide had turned against him, Connor had run off and vanished behind a heavy door.  
“Neria and Wynne, see what you can do about releasing the demon's hold on these men. Sten, Alistair, and Daylen, secure that door. Connor ran through there,” Damien ordered. Tunnel vision had claimed his sight narrowing him to a darkened and small world that started to spin. The youth felt nauseous as his knees buckled and he collapsed.  
“Damien? What's wrong? What happened?” Alyssa shouted. Her voice sounded so far away. He could feel his hood being pulled off his head and his scarf removed, but his hearing had gone silent accompanied his sight leaving him blind and deaf to the world.  
000  
Discomfort, like laying on a wooden bench covered in rocks, that was what the youth woke to. The pain had dulled quite a bit as he sat up slowly. He opened his eyes and found himself in a regal study with massive bookshelves along the wall behind the desk that was acting as his bed. He quickly noticed that all he had on was his small clothes and his joining and wooden pendants.  
Sitting up, Damien flexed his shoulders and back, but pain still resonated through him with every motion from the tips of his toes to the back of his head. He tried to climb down of the desk but lost his footing. He tried to catch himself but instead ended up ripping one of the drawers open spilling its contents onto the thick rug on the floor.  
Damien set the drawer to the side and looked over at the mess he had made. Most of it was sealed letters with a few knickknacks here and there, but what truly caught his attention was a small locket with the symbol of Andraste on it. The end of the chain was sealed to a letter most likely to keep them from getting separated.   
He piled everything back into the drawer, but, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Alistair's name on the letter with the locket. Perhaps it was something from Alistair's childhood that got left behind when he went to live at the chantry. If that were the case, there wouldn't be any harm in making sure the locket got back to him, right?  
Damien replaced the drawer in the desk and slowly regained his feet. He had no idea how long he had been asleep, but it must have been enough, because he felt rested despite his injuries. He sighed as he looked down at his body. Multiple scars covered his skin. Cuts, punctures, burns, he had most of them. He wondered just how many of his companions had seen his scars. He knew there were several dozen more on his back but, he had never seen them so they might as well not exist in his mind.  
He found a fresh change of clothes along with a sash that he could only assume was meant to replace his scarf while someone washed the blood out. He'd have a lot of groveling, apologizing, and thanking to do to his team.  
After getting dressed, he slipped the letter and locket into his pocket to give to Alistair, lifted the sash up over his nose and mouth, and headed for the door. He could hear people moving around outside and there was the faint sound of voices too, but much further away.  
The hall right outside the study was fairly plain with a few suits of armor for decoration and four doors including the study. One must have been to the upstairs because Brax was sitting in front of it on full guard dog mode with Sten standing next to him. Both of them with their eyes glued to the door.  
“How long was I out?” Damien asked touching the back of head and staying out of reach of Sten's sword, just in case he startled the sentinel.  
“A few hours. The other are in need of guidance. However, I want your permission to eliminate this demon now. We must attack,” Sten stated as calmly as ever, but his grip tightening on the sword told Damien that Sten was ready to spring into action and kill Connor is he gave the order.  
“Hold for now and let me know if anything changes. If the others need guidance like you say they do, that must mean there is another option other than killing a child,” Damien replied, rubbing the mabari's ears before making his way to the door across from the study. He could hear multiple voices arguing, so that must have been where everyone was.  
Slipping in as quietly as he could, Damien stayed out of the conversation and listened trying to pick up on whatever he could so they wouldn't have to re-explain anything. He also wanted to see how his team would handle themselves while he wasn't there.  
Alistair, Wynne, and Daylen seemed to be more vocal than the rest going on about how killing Connor wasn't right, but resorting to another option was just as bad. Leliana, Alyssa, Lyna, and Neria stood quietly by listening to everyone else bicker as Morrigan repeated that they were all fools without really putting forward any ideas herself. To Damien's surprise he spotted Jowan among the group along with Bann Teagan and Lady Isolde.  
After listening to them for a few seconds, Damien figured out that they had a few options on how to deal with the situation. They could kill the child and destroy the demon that way, but there was a risk to the arl if the demon stopped keeping him alive. The other option put forward made Damien's stomach churn. Using blood magic, Jowan could enable another mage to enter the Fade and slay the demon there sparing Connor's life, but it would require a blood sacrifice the would claim someone's life.  
“I couldn't help but overhear,” Damien shouted as the group tumbled into another back and forth debate over the morality and ethics of their two options.  
“Commander, you're awake. Thank the Maker,” Bann Teagan exclaimed.  
“Sorry to sleep so long, but my bed was just so comfy,” Damien said rolling his shoulder a little and groaning. Despite the pain, it felt good to stretch the muscle out some.  
“I should beat you senseless for ignoring that wound on your head, young man,” Wynne scolded wagging her finger at him.  
“Considering the arguments I've been hearing, it doesn't look like I can afford anymore nap time so, rain check?” Damien jested. Wynne rolled her eyes before smiling and nodding.  
“You certainly know how to make an entrance,” Alyssa said as Damien sat down on one of the benches in the great hall facing the group. He winced as his back pressed against the side of the table but he remained relaxed against it despite the discomfort. It felt better than leaning forward, but only slightly.  
“I do what I can with what I have. Now, if I'm understanding everything correctly, there are two options for dealing with this threat. Kill the kid or kill someone else for the chance to save the kid. Either way we risk the life of the arl once the demon is destroyed,” Damien pressed his palm to his forehead as he looked over at the Arlessa. “So let's hope some of your knights have a decent lead on the Urn of Sacred Ashes.”  
“But we have been searching for the Urn since the healing magic did not work with no luck,” Isolde stated.  
“That was before you had a thief looking for it,” Damien replied. “But back to what's really important here. I don't like the idea of sacrificing someone for a chance at killing the demon, but I'm not going to sacrifice a child either. There has to be another way. Blood mage is just a cheap shortcut, what would be needed to perform the ritual without it?”  
The group turned to look at Jowan. Damien could see anger and something resembling hatred for the mage in Daylen's eyes. Jowan must have really hurt the youth. Damien had been betrayed by plenty of people in the past, but it was all just good business. What happened between the two mages was personal.  
“I would normally be down with several power mages and lyrium. Lots of lyrium,” Jowan stated.  
“Then, I'll take a small team to the circle and ask the remaining mages to lend us their strongest mages. We'll have to get the lyrium either from the circle itself or maybe the templars. Either way, the tower is our destination,” Damien announced. He tried to stand up as he spoke but his strength failed him and the only motion he made was a quivering in his legs.  
“You can barely walk. How are you going to make that journey with a small team?” Alistair exclaimed.  
“We need as many people here as we can get. If Connor starts getting out of control again before I return, we'll have to put him down, permanently,” Damien stated.  
“That was not the question. How are you yourself going to make that journey is you can't walk?” the former templar asked again.  
“I'm not going by road. Myself, Neria, and Leliana will take a boat across the lake. By my calculations, that will save us a day or so depending on the wind and current. Round trip should only be four days by boat,” Damien explained.  
“Why not let me go?” Alistair asked.  
Damien motioned for him to come closer. The young thief grabbed hold of the knight's armor and pulled him down so that his lips were right next to Alistair's ear.  
“Because they don't know that you're a gray warden, and the fewer people that know the better. I can invoke the treaties if I have to. If you tried, they would demand proof and your cover would be blown,” Damien explained softly so only Alistair could hear him.  
The knight stood back up and nodded taking a few steps back.   
“Fine.”  
“I appreciate the understanding. Now, Neria, Leliana, let's get the boat loaded up with five days worth of supplies. Everyone else is to remain in the castle and keep a close eye on the place. If at any time Connor tries to attack or does anything that could threaten the Arl's life or anyone else in the castle or village, you are authorized to eliminate him. Alistair, you're in charge until I return,” Damien ordered.  
“You would leave the buffoon in charge again?” Morrigan murmured.  
“He's the best suited for it. Now, has anyone seen my armor?” Damien said looking around.  
“The blacksmith's daughter took it to him so he could repair it along with your daggers,” Alyssa reported.  
“His daughter? You guys found her?” Damien asked.  
“She was hiding in a closet with two other servants. They were tired and hungry, but they'll be fine,” Alyssa reported.  
“Good. Then I'll borrow some light armor and a weapon from the castle armory. That will give the blacksmith plenty of time to repair my gear,” Damien concluded. “Anything else I should know?”   
“Nothing that I can think of, but why don't you grab Duncan's weapons from the wagon?” Lyna suggested.  
“I would but I don't want to risk losing them in the lake. Some simple daggers will be fine. Oh and if anyone has letters they want to send out, let me have them. I'll drop them off at the Spoiled Princess,” Damien explained looking around the room. It was not all that surprising that no one had letters to send anywhere except him. As far as he knew, he was the only one who even had anyone to write to.  
“Alright, we're burning daylight people. Let's move,” Damien ordered clapping his hands. “Which way to the armory?”   
000  
Damien stood at the door to the castle armory with Bann Teagan with a broad smile on his face. The weapons in the armory numbered over 500 with nearly 200 sets of armor. It was like looking at a fully stocked larder after a week without food. He could even feel himself salivating at the sight.  
“Bann Teagan, I think I might just have myself a good cry right here. This is beautiful,” Damien said doing his best to sound weepy as he entered the room.  
“Sorry Commander, what do you mean by that?” Bann Teagan inquired.  
“I grew up on the streets where scarcity was the normal. To see weapons in such abundance, it makes me realize just how far I've come from stealing my next meal,” Damien explained taking up a pair of daggers. They certainly were well made and probably would have gone for a couple sovereigns in Denerim. They would do until he got back. He twirled them around his body and tested the weight. They were a little heavier than his other pair or Duncan's blades but he could still use them. As a matter of fact, he might ask Bann Teagan if he could keep them after the trip so he could train with them and build up his strength and speed.  
“This armor might suit you, Commander,” Bann Teagan said directing Damien to a stand with a full suit of black leather armor stood proudly.  
“I've never seen leather like this before. What's it from?” Damien asked as he placed his fingertips on the chest piece. It felt solid, like a steel plate had been sewn inside.  
“It's made from drakeskin. I had it made by the best smith in Ferelden, Master Wade himself. It's even been enchanted with fire resistance. This might even be better than your old armor,” Bann Teagan stated as he unlaced the bracers.  
“I think I very well might be, but I don't know if it will fit me. It looks like it was made for someone taller,” Damien said picking up one of the shin guards.  
“We'll lace it tight, and you can have it adjusted when you return,” the bann said handing Damien the bracers.  
Damien smiled and shook his head as he set the armor on the table in the middle of the room. Adjusting his boots, he started with this shin guards over the knee-high boots and laced them as tight as he could without cutting off circulation to his feet. As he continued dressing from the feet up, Damien realized just how wrong he had been about the armor. It fit almost too well, like it had been made for him. True, it was probably from how tight the lacings had been pulled, but he felt good, and the armor was very light and flexible.  
“There is a helmet over here if you need it,” the bann said tossing Damien the headgear. Damien caught it and examined the piece. It was made of the same leather as the rest of the armor, but had a metal cap inside to help protect the top of the head. With his current injuries still recovering, the extra protection for his head would certainly be welcome.  
“I appreciate it,” Damien replied taking a clip and hanging the helmet from his belt as he strapped the dueling daggers to his belt and his throwing knives to his lower back.  
“You look ready for a fight,” Morrigan said from the door.  
“Hopefully I won't find one until I want to,” Damien responded. Bann Teagan nodded his farewell as he slipped out leaving Damien alone with the witch.  
“I assume there is a reason that you have left me behind,” Morrigan stated crossing her arms.  
“I need people here that are willing to do what the others won't or can't. Look Morrigan, I'm no fool, despite what you might think. I know I'm taking a huge risk going to try and get the mages from the circle especially so soon after all their trouble, but if a child's life can be spared without it costing anyone else their own, I have to try. However, should the worst come to pass, I expect you to end it. Everyone else will be too sympathetic or blindly anchored by their morals. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm just as anchored as anyone else when it comes to a kid. Morrigan, if Connor does try to attack the castle or the village again, I need you and Sten to kill him without hesitation. Understood?” It turned Damien's stomach to order her to do that, but other than Sten, he was pretty sure that Morrigan was the only other person who could spill a child's blood if necessary.  
“You have my word. I must admit, Warden-commander, you have surprised me. Being willing to admit that you are indeed anchored by your sense of morality and giving the task to myself and the qunari is a wise decision,” Morrigan stated.  
“I hope so. Remember, only kill him if there is no other choice, even if Lady Isolde and everyone else protests. I would rather Connor die than lose anyone else to an attack. If he stays quiet upstairs, leave him be,” Damien reiterated.  
“I understand.”  
The answer chilled Damien to the bone. He knew the witch placed little value on the lives of others, but she could be depended on to handle the things that no one else could or wanted to; even him.


	31. Chapter 31

The feel of his scarf around his neck again made him feel much more comfortable. Damien tightened the rope holding the boat's sail steady as the small vessel glided over the waters of Lake Calenhad. Leliana had her place near the bow of the boat while Neria stayed closer to Damien since he still needed from healing magic from time to time. On the trip to the circle tower, they had to sail against the current, but as luck would have it, the wind often blew in the opposite direction. True, it made the waters a little rough in some areas, but it made the trip easier.  
“The boat was an excellent idea. If we had taken horses, the trip would have taken three days at least,” Leliana said leaning back and letting the sun hit her face.  
“Careful how much sun you get, Leliana. Don't want to burn right?” Neria advised.  
“Relax Neria. This is the most relaxed bit of traveling that we are going to have for a while. Enjoy the time,” Damien suggested taking out a small line and a fishing hook. He took a small piece of cheese from his rations and packed it onto the bard before tossing the line in the water.  
Kept an eye on their progress and adjusted the rudder when he needed to, but for the most part, they were sailing at a fairly fast clip. The fishing just gave him something to pass the time with while the girls enjoyed the view from the water. Leliana and Neria talked some but not as much as he had expected, he decided that he would join in and see what information he could get out of Leliana. He felt like this was his best chance to learn more about her past.  
“Hey Leliana, did you ever do anything like this when you were back in Orlais?” Damien asked pulling on his fishing line.  
“Oh yes, my mistress had a beautiful pond and we would talk in a boat for hours telling each other stories,” Leliana said smiling back at him.  
“Is that what inspired you to be a bard? Oh sorry, I meant minstrel.” Damien watched her reaction to his 'mistake' and there it was. The slight twitch in her eyes and the genuine surprise on her face as if to say 'how did you figure it out'. “You were a bard. I knew you were too skilled to just have picked up your skills on the road. You were trained by someone.”  
“Yes I was,” Leliana stated. It looked to Damien like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders as she spoke. “My teacher and mistress was named Marjolaine. I loved her with all my heart, but she betrayed me.”  
“I'm guessing this betrayal brought you to Fereldan and forced you to seek shelter with the chantry,” Damien said, tugging on his fishing line gently.  
“Yes. I had found documents that said that she had been selling secrets , proving she was a traitor to Orlais. I did not believe it so I brought them to her. Not long after, I was arrested for her crimes and the same documents were produced as evidence, but they had been changed to show that I was the traitor instead.” Leliana appeared on the brink of tears. She must have truly loved her life in Orlais as a bard, but at least now there were no secrets between them. He felt like he could trust her completely now. However, he needed to make her feel better.  
“I'm sorry, Leli. That must have been hard on you,” Damien said softly.  
“I'll be alright. I have a wonderful life now and I would not trade it for anything,” she replied smiling back at him.  
“Well, how about a song? Something all of us can sing to. I know that sailors sing on long voyages to pass the time and keep their spirits up,” Damien suggested.  
“That sounds like fun,” Neria agreed smiling over at Leliana. She must have been seeing what Damien was trying to do. She did specialize in healing and restoration magic after all.  
Leliana smiled and started humming a very familiar tune. As she sang the first verse, Neria joined harmonizing beautifully. Damien found himself so taken in by the tune that they had already made it through half the song before he managed to join in on the chorus.  
000  
Night had fallen over the small boat and Damien woke to Neria and Leliana talking. He had not meant to fall asleep but since they had not woken him, they must have still been on course and making good time.  
“I am surprised. You never spent time with him other than talking and passing glances?” Leliana asked. Damien raised an eye brow trying not to let them know that he was awake for no other purpose except curiosity. He wanted to know what the girls spoke about when they thought he wasn't listening.  
“He was a templar. I didn't want him to get in trouble,” Neria protested. Maker, they were talking about the templar they rescued near the top of the tower. Cullen was his name if Damien remembered right. He knew Neria had feelings for the man, but what could have brought this subject up.  
“You at least stole a kiss, of course,” Leliana taunted.  
“Well, um... yes,” Neria admitted. Damien could see the young elf girl's ears turning red even in the dark.  
“Wonderful. I am quite happy for you,” Leliana said softly clapping with excitement.  
“I can't ever return to see him now, especially if I become a warden,” Neria said lowering her gaze.  
“I am sure that is not true. Even as a grey warden I am sure you could return and see him again,” Leliana stated. Damien fought his urge to jump in, remaining in his comfortable position and trying to go back to sleep, his curiosity sated.   
“I hope so. Do you think Damien has fallen in love before?” Neria asked. Damien could feel her eyes fall on him as he did his best to breath normally.  
It was a good question. He had certainly been smitten with a girl a few times in his life, but most never gave him the time of day usually just becoming friends before fading to nothing but memory. Although when he thought about who mattered the most to him, Bethany's face popped into his head. It was not all that surprising but he had not known her long enough to fall in love, had he?  
“I am sure he has, but he has had a difficult life. You saw the scars too I'm sure,” Leliana stated. Damien adjusted his head with his eyes still closed trying to not let them know he was awake.  
Damn, his scars covered him from head to toe and he remembered the story that went along with every one of them, although he had been known to embellish a little if the occasion called for it.  
“Scars on the body are often paired with scars on the heart. I would not be surprised if Damien had an even more colorful past than he lets on,” Leliana continued.  
“I haven't heard much about him from anyone. How long have you known him?” Neria asked.  
“Not long at all. Him and the other wardens showed up in Lothering a few days after the Battle of Ostagar and I joined them then. None of us have known each other long at all,” Leliana answered.  
“But the way that everyone can work together, it seems like the group has been together for a long time,” Neria said softly.  
“That is thanks to Damien. He's brilliant both on and off the battlefield,” Leliana replied. Damien turned himself over and faked like he was just then waking up, rubbing his eyes and stretching.  
“Maker, that is just as uncomfortable as the desk was back in Redcliffe,” Damien announced sitting up. In the moonlight, he could see the silhouette of the tower on the horizon. It would still take some time to get there, but judging from the dimming stars and lightening eastern sky, they should pull up to the docks before noon.  
“You two get some sleep. I'll make sure we stay on course,” Damien said putting his arm over the rudder and the other hand in the lake letting the water rush through his fingers.   
Truth was he knew very little about any of his companions. He understood how they fought, whose style complimented who, and how they meshed well in battle, but personally, he knew very little. He had no idea what had led them to join him or what had happened in their pasts that led them there. As a theif, when he worked with others, if was better not to know them as long as they stuck to the plan, but in battle, plans changed and knowing people's triggers, breaking points, stress levels, and mental stability helped a commander figure out their strategy. To become a commander that was capable of defeating the darkspawn, he would have to get closer with everyone. Learn what made them who they were instead of simply understanding what they were in that moment.  
As he predicted, the boat glided up next to the dock at the ferry crossing beneath tower as the sun reached the center of the sky. Damien stood and waved for Leliana and Neria to follow.  
“First, we get the mages on board with saving the kid, then while they prepare, we'll visit the tavern and pick up mail and drop off my letter,” Damien said patting his side pouch.  
“It has only been a few days since we were here. I doubt the Circle has recovered much,” Neria said looking up at the tower as it pierced the sky.  
“If we can get just a half dozen mages and enough lyrium to fuel the spell, we will have all we need. You, Daylen, Morrigan, and Wynne can stand in to help sustain the magic and we have some lyrium in the cart back in Redcliffe. With just a little help from the circle, we should have the power we need to save Connor,” Damien said as they approached the door.  
“But if you are planning to use all of us to cast the spell, who is going into the Fade?” Neria asked causing Damien to glance back at her.  
“Me.”  
000  
Damien sat hunched over the bar with a pint of mead in his hand. The First Enchanter had been easily convinced to lend his aid and luckily for Damien, or maybe the luck was on Connor's side, three other senior mages were well enough to travel and willing to help. Knight-Commander Greagoir had even offered some of their lyrium stores as well as two templars to secure Jowan and Connor once the spell had been completed.  
Neria had seemed to want to protest against his plan to go into the fade on his own to hunt the demon, but he was not giving her the chance. He had her getting more supplies with Leliana so he could drink in peace and read through the few letters that had come for him. There was one from a merchant that wanted to meet with him to discuss something about recovering something that had once belonged to the Wardens and another from Slim back in Denerim giving him a little information about some of Loghain's movements. Apparently news of Damien's survival and quest to gather allies for the Wardens had gained attention, not just from Loghain but from nobles that were fighting against Loghain. It was good to know that the Wardens still had some friends. Damien would have to find a way to approach them. On top of that, there was talk about the crows being called into Denerim by Loghain. No doubt Damien was the target.  
The last letter intrigued him. It was from an old acquaintance from his time in the south western region of the kingdom in the foot hills of the Frostback Mountains. Her name, or at least what she went by, as White Fox. She explained that she had come by a rather interesting artifact and the means to obtain it. The only problem was the village that held the artifact was right in the path of the advancing darkspawn horde. She had heard that the Dark Wolf was active again and thought that he might be interested. He was not all that interested in a heist, but that fact that White Fox had gotten in contact for help with a job did interest him. She specialized in stealing weapons and weapon designs. If she had her eyes set on something so valuable that she would rather ask for help than risk loosing it, it might be useful to him and his group. He certainly had the coin to buy out her half of the take. It might be worth checking out.  
He was about to finish off his pint when a conversation at the other end of the bar caught his attention. A knight in dirty and rough looking clothes was talking to the barkeep about someone called Brother Genitivi and the Urn of Sacred Ashes. He must have been a Redcliffe knight.  
“You've got the wrong place,” the barkeep replied, but Damien could see fear behind the man's eyes mixed with a little sorrow. There was something that he was hiding. Even the air felt a little heavier and Damien could see a few of the patrons making discreet moves. It made him uneasy to say the least.  
“Excuse me, sir knight,” Damien said waving the man over.  
“How can I help you?” the man replied politely. He looked like an orge had used him as a chew toy before throwing him in a swamp. Damien could only imagine how hard it was for the man to stay up right and proper despite his hardships.  
“I actually just came from Redcliffe. I'm guessing you are one of Arl Eamon's knights. You really should return. There are a lot of things that have happened that you are not aware of,” Damien said finishing off his pint. The second the urn left their conversation, it seemed like the rest of the tavern went back to normal. In fact, the exact moment that the crowd relaxed was when Damien suggested that the knight go home instead of pursuing his quest.  
“What do you mean by that?” the knight exclaimed slamming his fist down on the bar.  
“Its hard to explain, but the short version is the village was attacked. There are a lot of dead and missing including most of the castle staff. My company and I will be taking up the search for the Urn as well, so you should return to your post at the castle,” Damien said turning to face the man. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a man leave. He knew it. There was something going on regarding the urn in this place. Some secret they were keeping or a clue they were hiding.  
“Why should I trust you?” the knight snarled. Obviously his eagerness and worry for his Arl had caused his politeness to fall away leaving only an anxious and desperate man behind.  
Damien reached inside his tunic and produced the Warden pendant allowing the man to take a close look. “I'm the Warden-Commander and I am doing everything in my power to make sure that the Arl, his family, and every other person in Redcliffe survives. Hand to the Maker, that is the honest truth,” Damien said replacing the pendant inside his shirt and raising his other hand.  
“I thought all the Wardens were dead, wiped out at Ostagar,” the knight stated looking Damien over suspiciously. Damien wondered how he would prove who he was if the pendant wasn't enough.  
“Commander Damien, the mages are about ready to leave. They said that with a few wind spells, we could make it back to Redcliffe in a day or so,” Neria reported stepping to his side. Damien smirked. Her timing could not have been better.  
“Thanks,” Damien said before turning back to the knight. “Want a ride back to Redcliffe?”  
“I am afraid that I must return to the quest I was sent on. The urn must be found,” the man stated bowing.  
“I understand. My people and I will be joining you soon, I'm sure. Would you mind telling me what you've learned so far so that we don't have to retrace your steps?” Damien asked smiling. He stood and waited for the knight to join him. The man sighed and stood obviously tired but willing to cooperate at the very least.  
That feeling... in the pit of his stomach... he knew this feeling... It wasn't darkspawn or blood magic. This was something far more familiar to him. Blood lust. Someone... no, some group of people wanted him dead. This was no coincidence. Either the crows had gotten to him faster than he expected, or there was another group that was after them. If the latter was true, they had to have information about the urn.  
As he and his two companions approached the door, Damien looked back at them and paused. “When this door opens, be ready to fight,” Damien stated grabbing a throwing knife from his pouch. Neria's eyes widened as she lifted her staff. The knight looked like he was crazy and Damien really couldn't blame him if he thought that way, but the man placed a hand on his own sword as well.  
The door opened and the trio stepped out in to the afternoon sunlight only to be met by a half dozen, heavily armed men.  
“Your quest ends here, heretic,” one shouted drawing his weapon.  
“Neria, stand back and keep an eye on our friend here. I'll take the three on left,” Damien stated drawing a dagger. His wounds still had not fully healed from the battle at Redcliffe, but that certainly wouldn't stop him. He did wish he had his lighter weapons with him, but as long as he fought conservatively he would be able to win. Keep his movements to a minimum and make his strikes quickly.  
Charging forward, he felt like time was slowing down for him. He could see the whole field, the way their attackers were moving, who would target him first, and even where he needed to hit in order to make the quick kill. But should he kill them? They might know where the urn was. Maybe leave one or two alive to extract information? But what did he know about interrogation? The only time he ever was involved with extracting information was when he was the one who suffered for what was in his head. Maybe his knowledge of what it was like to be asked questions would help him form his own.  
Using his right dagger, he blocked a blow meant for his shoulder before hurling his throwing knife into his opponent's foot pinning him to the ground. His now empty hand caught the wrist of the second thug and guided the sword away from him as he plunged his dagger into the man's neck. His momentum carried him forward as he spun his body and drew his other dagger. His pinned opponent would be free soon. He needed to finish off his other target quickly. Charging forward, the last of his targets raised a giant battleaxe over his head and started to swing down at him. Damien smirked as he rolled to the side and slashed the man's knee as he passed. Using his magic, he stopped himself right behind his opponent and drove both dagger through the man's back. This was not the first time he had killed another human being, but this time it felt different, like Damien was the savage bloodthirsty one, not his opponents.  
Glancing in the direction of the knight, Damien noticed him struggling against his targets. He must have been trained to fight in one-on-one matches rather than against groups. Damien charged forward once more slugging his pinned opponent in the jaw just as he managed to get the knife out of his foot sending him to the ground. Damien doubted the man was out of the fight, but hopefully this scrap would be over before he was back on his feet.  
Flipping the daggers in his hands so the blades ran along his forearms, Damien drove his right blade through the neck of another attacker and the left down between the collar bone and shoulder blade of another. Blood sprayed out covering his face and scarf as his hood fell away.  
“This fight is over, friend. Surrender, or Maker help me, I will end you right here,” Damien growled ripping his blades free flinging some of the blood onto the last man standing. The knight took a step back with his eyes wide. The last thug looked around for only a moment before dropping his sword.  
“Wise choice,” Damien said sheathing his blades and wiping his face with the bottom of his sleeve. “Neria, Sir Knight, please see to it our guests behave themselves while I'm gone.” Damien pointed back to the man with the injured foot who was starting to try and stand up.  
“Where are you going?” Neria asked taking a bandage from her bag and tying their captives' hands with it.  
“The only reason I knew that we would be attacked just now is because of the way people were acting inside. I want to know why no one warned us and just how many knight have met their end at the hands of these bastards,” Damien snarled. He needed to keep his head clear. As the leader of the wardens he needed to have his wits about him constantly, but right now, even with his body aching and his breathe burning from the fight, he wanted answers and by Andraste's ass he'd get them.  
Damien nearly ripped the door off its hinges kicking the thing open. The entire tavern turned to look at him. He must have been a sight. Blood covering his face and armor. Maker knew he had not gotten all of it off with his sleeve.  
“Any of you bastards want to tell me why I just walked into an ambush? I know that at least three of you knew what was about to happen!” Damien roared drawing his daggers once more. A few people started to get up but but Damien hurled his left dagger across the room so it stuck to the frame of the back door. “Sit down!!!”  
The tavern froze. No one even breathed, all eyes fixed on the young warden-commander. Damien took only a few steps into the tavern keeping the front entrance blocked.  
“As of right now, everyone in here is considered an accomplice to the thugs I just killed outside, unless you can convince otherwise,” Damien snapped. For a second several people started to move toward him, but he immediately stepped back into a fighting stance raising his dagger and drawing a throwing knife. “Not all at once. You first.” Damien nodded to the man closest to him. It was obvious the guy was a trader from his clothes and the smell. As much as traders traveled, they kept clean since they dealt with customers.  
“I'm simply passing through on my way to trade in Danestead. I swear to you, sir, I have only been here a single night,” the man pleaded.  
“I believe you. Please step outside so if something happens you don't get hurt,” Damien stated nodding toward the door as Neria entered with Leliana at her side.  
Damien talked to each person individually and let most of them go except for three; the innkeeper, a traveler named Keeble, and a stranger that refused to answer any questions Damien asked.  
“Leliana, if any of our guests move, pin them back in their seat with an arrow. Your choice in what body part you pin,” Damien said smirking. He hoped she understood what he was doing. She was a bard after all. Games like this were probably second nature to her.  
“Small targets are more fun,” she replied taking an arrow and tapping the tip between each of the men's legs. Damien couldn't help but smile. She was playing the bad guard very well. He was even scared to cross her.  
“So,” Damien started squatting down in front of the innkeeper, “this is your place, so you must know everything that goes on here. I'm guessing my drinking buddy out there wasn't the first Redcliffe knight to come through here looking for the urn. Why didn't you warn us those thugs were going to attack? Oh and in case I'm not being clear about the stakes, they nearly killed me, so I have no problem removing body parts to get the information I need.” Damien dug the tip of his dagger into the seat of the chair the man was sitting on so the blade scrapped against the innkeeper's britches.  
“They told me that if I tried to warn anyone that asked about the urn that they would kill me and all my tenants. I couldn't put all my customers in danger. I'm sorry, Commander,” the man begged. Damien removed the dagger and pat the man on the shoulder.  
“Truth has liberating and I can see that you regret letting the others die, but you did have a reason for it. Of these two fine fellows, which one started staying a day or so after they threatened you,” Damien asked pointing to the other two.  
“Him,” the barkeep said nodding to the nameless stranger.  
“What's his story?” Damien asked gesturing to the other.  
“Like I told you, I'm a traveler. I'm just resting here before I decide where to go next. The roads aren't safe, what with the blight and all,” Keeble cried flinching as Leliana walked around behind him tapping her arrow on his chair.  
“That's not all. He was really interested in you, Commander. Asked several times in the past few days about where you might be. Paid for a month in advance,” the innkeeper added.  
“Oh really?” Damien said taking a piece of cloth and tying the nameless man to his chair. “Are you a fan? I know I am an amazing warrior... Oh wait a minute, you don't want... sorry friend, not into men.” Damien made exaggerated hand gestures and struck several poses eliciting a few stifled laughs from Leliana.  
“That's not it. I... I am a fan,” Keeble stated. Damien sighed. He could tell the man was lying. The way his eyes shifted, his body language, the way he cocked his head, it was all screaming that the man was talking out his ass.  
“That better be the last time you lie to me, or I'm going to start by removing you thumbs with that fork,” Damien snapped pointing to a wooden utensil on a table.  
Keeble stopped talking almost immediately. Damien smirked and leaned in a little closer. Keeble was nervous. If he was a spy or a hired scout, he may have not had the training to keep himself concealed depending on his employer. Although, if he worked with a group that was after Damien and his group other than their normal enemies, they might have a problem.  
“Tell you what, you have two options here,” Damien informed him retrieving the wooden fork. “One, you tell me the whole truth and you and I will discuss it over a nice pint on me. Two, you lie to me or don't say anything and I cause you pain until you are begging for me to end your life. Oh and just so you are aware, I learned everything I know about torture from Fort Drakkon in Denerim, so use you imagination.” Damien took a breath and rolled his neck slightly before placing the prongs of the fork on the nail of the man's thumb.  
“Wait, wait, wait, I'll tell you everything. I swear, everything,” Keeble pleaded.  
“Talk, and if you lie even once, we go back to the fork option,” Damien said lifting the utensil off his hand.  
“I was sent here by Arl Howe. He found out that a criminal was communicating with the Warden Commander through this tavern. I was supposed to learn when you came and went and if you were using it as your base. I sent a letter yesterday saying that you had not been seen in several days and the investigation was on going,” Keeble confessed.  
“That wasn't too bad now was it? Congrats Keeble, you no longer work for Loghain. You work for me. You will tell him only what I want you to tell him. You'll also be reporting to me any movements of his troops, allies, and any darkspawn activity you hear of. You will forward all reports to Redcliffe on a weekly basis and as well as any mail that comes for me, understood?” Damien ordered looking Keeble square in the face.  
“Understood,” the man said nodding fiercely.  
“Excellent, anything urgent comes up, forward it to Recliffe right away,” Damien added patting the man on the shoulder. “Now, as for you,”Damien stated turning back to his nameless captive. “You, me, and your buddies that survived outside are going to have a chat.”


End file.
